


No Conditions, No Reservations

by sofreakinmanyfandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Insecurity, Love, Protection, Serious fluff, Spiders, like all the fluff, soulmate, soulmate!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofreakinmanyfandoms/pseuds/sofreakinmanyfandoms
Summary: In a world where soulmates share wounds, you're born missing an arm.Updates Wednesdays.One AO3 chapter equals two tumblr chapters, so if you're really impatient you can get the first half of each new chapter there (username: @sofreakinmanyfandoms). That one updates Sundays and Wednesdays.





	1. Finding Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> This thing is the life and bane of my existence, and also one of the reasons I got an AO3 account. (Because I've been informed there are not nearly enough Bucky-centric Soulmate!AUs in the world.)
> 
> Also, this is an AU, which means I can do what I want. Team dynamics will be different because I love all my idiots and want them to be happy and love each other too. Timelines will also be different because I said so. Differences will be alluded to enough that you can have an idea what is going on.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Comments and feedback are not only welcomed, they are craved. (Feed me.)

“Oh, honey, she’s beautiful.”

Your mom looked up at your dad’s face and the wonder it held. She then looked down at the tiny bundle he was holding out to her. There you were, tiny and perfect, face scrunched up as you experienced the world outside her womb for the first time.

And you were covered in scars and missing your left arm.

She looked from where your arm should be back to your father’s eyes.

He understood her look. “No, I don’t know if it’s because of her soulmate.”

“It has to be,” she whispered. “She was just born. It has to be from her soulmate. What kind of life will she have if she’s already missing an arm because of her soulmate? If her soulmate has so many scars?”

“One full of love,” he replied, stroking her hair back from her, “both from us and from whoever she meets. Scars don’t mean a lack of love, they just mean a rough life. Don’t blame a child for what has happened to them.”

She looked back down at you, tracing the scars with her eyes. “What kind of person would hurt a child? Her soulmate can’t be that old, right? What kind of monster…”

You father placed his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “We’ll make it through, all of us together. When we find them, we’ll make sure they know –”

He was cut off by your mother’s shriek and the loud crying that erupted from your tiny lungs. A hole had been ripped into your right shoulder and blood was pouring out. The nurse rushed in and took you, calling for the doctor as she rushed you to NICU. All your parents could do was pray.

\----------

“How is he?”

“They patched up his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch when they removed the bullet. I don’t think we’ll have to recondition him before putting him back under.”

“Good. Keep him awake long enough for it to mostly heal so it won’t interfere with his next mission.”

“Yes, sir.”

Pierce looked through the one-way glass at the soldier. He sat ramrod straight on the exam table, staring straight ahead, a bandage wrapped around his right shoulder. All things considered, this mission had gone comparatively smoothly. The last one had been a disaster. This time, they just had to wait a few days for the bullet wound to heal and he could go back under. Today had been a success. 

\----------

You were three the next time a large wound appeared without warning, but that was far from the last time it happened. Every few years another “incident” (as your mother had taken to calling them) would happen; sometimes it would be a single wound and sometimes you’d wind up in an ambulance bleeding out from twenty stab wounds. As the years went along, your parents took every first-aid class they could and kept a stock of medical supplies. The nurse and teachers at your school were made aware of what could happen and in your mind it was just part of your life.

Every so often you would wonder about your soulmate and what they must be going through for this to be happening to them. Every so often you’d feel confused or scared for no apparent reason, but for the most part you weren’t able to sense their emotions. You were left with questions about this person and no way to answer them.

Only one thing you were sure of: whenever you found your soulmate, you would let them know that you loved them completely with no conditions and no reservations, and you would do so for all of time.

\----------

You clamped the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you typed. “All right, Mr. Magnus, I’ve sent requests out to the other libraries for season 1 of Golden Girls. We should know within the week whether or not anyone will be sending it. We’ll call you when we know if it’s coming. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“That’s all I wanted. Thank you for your help, young lady!”

“My pleasure, Mr. Magnus. Have a great rest of your day!” 

Your coworker shook her head at you as you hung up. “I could have done that. I don’t know why he’ll only talk to you.”

“Well, we all have our regulars,” you laughed. “I can think of one particular man who always asks for, ‘that cute library assistant, Margie.’”

Margie blushed. “That’s different. Jon is my fiancée. You’re just everyone’s favorite.”

You felt a stabbing pain in your left leg and looked down to see blood starting to soak through your slacks. “As stirring as this conversation is, I believe I’m having an incident. I’ll be in the back cleaning up.”

Her eyes went wide. “But one happened last week! I thought they only happened every few years?”

“Apparently not. But, um, we can talk about this later.”

“Of course, of course,” she nodded. “Go take care of yourself.”

By the time you reached the back room, there was another slash in your side. You pulled your first aid kit from your locker and cleaned the wound in your side, butterflying it closed before turning to your leg. That wound was shallower, just a light mark, but longer. You butterflied it before covering both with gauze.

When you headed back out to the front, Margie looked at you and shook her head. “You still have blood on your pants. Why are you not limping?”

“I’m kinda used to it by now,” you shrugged. “Plus I seem to heal really quickly compared to most people. It only took two weeks for a bone I broke in second grade to heal.” You looked back down at the blood on your clothing. “I should probably call my mom and ask her to bring me a change of clothes, though. I used my set I keep here last week, and I haven’t brought another set since I thought I had more time. Wouldn’t want to freak out patrons.”

“Yeah, you should probably work in the back,” your boss agreed, coming up from behind you. He studied your face. “Are you okay? They’ve never happened this close together before.”

“I’ll be fine.” You smiled at Andrew. The two of you had grown up together. He was your older brother’s best friend and had been the one to talk you into applying for your job when it had opened up. It had been a great fit, and having a boss who understood your situation was remarkably helpful.

“Good. We got in a new shipment of DVDs. Can you download their information into the system from the workstation in the back?”

“I’m on it,” you confirmed. “I’ll just call my mom quickly first.”

“Go for it. And don’t worry about working the front anymore today. I’ll take it from here; wouldn’t want my patron interaction skills to atrophy or anything.”

You and Margie laughed at Andrew’s attempt at a joke as you headed back to the back room. Sitting down for the rest of your shift would be nice. You’d have to have your mom bring two changes of clothes. If stuff was happening more frequently now, you wanted to have an extra set ready.

Your mind turned as it often did towards your soulmate. What were they going through? They’d been shot last week (that was never fun) and stabbed twice today. You closed your eyes and focused on how much you cared for them. Maybe, just maybe, your emotions would get through and make their day a bit better.

\----------

Bucky sat on the exam table in the Avenger’s Tower’s medical ward with his leg propped up, Bruce leaning over him and stitching up the wound in his side. Steve leaned against the door frame, watching as Bucky scrutinized the room.

“You can relax, Buck,” Steve implored softly. “I know it doesn’t feel like it yet, but you’re safe here.”

Bucky nodded slightly but his muscles remained tense as he continued scanning the room, his eyes searching for signs of any threat. His memories were mostly back now, but his time as the Winter Soldier had taken its toll. He found himself unconsciously expecting danger at any moment, even as his consciousness told him that Steve would never lie to him.

“I’m done with your side,” Bruce informed him. “I’m going to move to your leg now. I’ll have to cut away some of your pant leg like I had to do with your shirt.”

“Okay.”

Bruce took that as permission to continue and began cutting at the torn denim. Bucky’s eyes flickered to what Bruce was doing before continuing their scan.

“So…” Steve pushed himself away from the door and came to stand next to Bucky. “Why were you breaking into that lab? I mean, I know it’s a HYDRA lab, but why were you there? You’ve been hiding from them for years, but suddenly now that Shuri got their programming out of your head you’re on the warpath alone?”

Bucky looked embarrassed and slightly ashamed. He stared at the floor as he replied. “I heard that they had replicated part of the serum they used on me. I didn’t want them to turn anyone else into…into what they turned me into.”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve sighed as his face softened, “all you had to do was ask and we would have come with you. You’ve got a team now.”

“Do I, Steve?” Bucky raised his head and locked eyes with Steve for the first time since he was brought in. “Do I really? No one but the team knows I’m here. I don’t go on missions with you. I’m pretty sure you’re the only one here who even trusts me, except for maybe Bruce.”

Bruce finished his last knot. “There, all stitched up.” He met Bucky’s eyes. “I know a thing or two about having a side that’s a monster, but unlike you I made mine. If anyone has no right to judge, it’s me.”  
“So let’s make it official.” Steve had a look in his eyes that made Bucky suddenly nervous.

“Make what official?” he asked warily.

“You having a team,” Steve offered. “Tony can set up a press conference announcing the Winter Soldier as the newest addition to the Avengers. You can start going out on missions with us. It’ll give you a way to fight HYDRA and we could always use another good member.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Bucky stared at Steve as though he had suggested making Bucky the Queen of England. “The public will hate me. No one on the team will actually want me along on missions.”

“How about you ask us about that first, idiot?” Sam interjected as he strode into the room followed by Tony and Rhodey.

“Exactly, Steve. You can’t just decide this stuff on your own.” Bucky crossed his arms as though his point had been made.

“He was talking to you, Sergeant,” Rhodey cut in. “You don’t get to decide whether we want you on the team or not. I for one would appreciate knowing you had my back in the field.”

“And I,” Tony added, “would love to see someone keep Cap from doing anything stupid, if that’s even possible.” He took in Bucky’s bewildered expression. “We were listening in from the other room. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s already getting that press conference set up. We announce your official membership in the Avengers tomorrow afternoon. Welcome to the team.” He clapped the soldier on the shoulder before mock saluting Steve and exiting.

“You were listening in?” Steve asked Sam.

“Tony was listening in. Rhodey and I just stumbled upon him in time for that last bit.” Sam raised his hands in defense.

“Well, I’m glad he was spying,” Rhodey announced. “Steve had a great idea, and I’m not letting you,” he pointed at Bucky, “talk him down from it because of self-doubt. We’ve all got pasts here, Barnes. You’re not even the only one here who has tried to kill members of this team. We’re all behind you. Like it or not, you’re one of us now.”

Bucky ducked his head. He was embarrassed and rather pleased that everyone trusted him, but inside he was definitely still scared. He had seen what those press conferences were like. Would he be okay on stage with everyone staring at him and camera flashes going off? Would he be okay in the field? What if he let everyone down?

\----------

As Bucky was worrying about tomorrow, you removed the butterflies you’d had on your wounds. You had learned pretty quickly that stitches always followed your incidents, and since they always looked much nicer than anything you could do for yourself, you had chosen to stick to butterflies until your soulmate got them taken care of.

You could feel your soulmate’s anxiety, so you did what you always did in those situations: closed your eyes and thought about how much you loved them. Sure, you had never met them before, but your heart went out to this person who had gone through so much. You just hoped your love would help them feel better.

\----------

As he made his way up to his room, Bucky found himself suddenly feeling better. A warm feeling crept over him, the same warmth that had comforted him every time he had felt scared or confused the past twenty years. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but somehow it made him feel like everything was going to be all right.

\----------

Bucky fiddled with the straps on his jacket. He wished Steve would let him cover up his metal arm, but his friend had insisted that Bucky needed to stop being ashamed of it. Instead of his usual coat and glove, Bucky had on a uniform Tony had designed that left his arm on full display.

“It’s just for show,” Tony had assured him. “We all have our stealth suits in addition to our public appearance suits. If you want something with your arm covered for your stealth suit, I can make that, but as long as you’re making a public appearance you should be easily recognizable.”

The thing was, he didn’t care if his arm was showing on missions. It was intimidating and he could use that to his advantage. In public, however, he just wanted to fit in. He didn’t want to scare anyone.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, watching as the plates in his metal arm shifted with the movement. He hoped far more than expected for people to not be afraid when they saw him today, but his head was telling him to prepare for the worst.

You sighed as you followed behind Margie and Jon. You had intended to spend your day off reading, but Margie had called and talked you into going out with them. Apparently the Avengers were having a press conference in the park and they were both looking to feed their mutual crush on Captain America by attending in the hope of glimpsing the man himself. You couldn’t blame them; anyone with working eyes knew the man was gorgeous.

Your mom had tried to talk you into wearing your prosthetic, but you had insisted on leaving the house without it. It was clearly just for show when it was on you. You had no part of an arm for it to attach to, so it just hung by your side in an attempt to make you look more like a “normal” person.

Screw normal. You would take being yourself any day.

A flutter in your chest caught your attention. Your soulmate must be really scared today. The anxiety had woken you up and you had spent all day with an erratic heartbeat, trying to project love and peace back. You weren’t sure it was working.

The press conference wasn’t for another hour, so the three of you stopped for ice cream at a vendor on the far side of the park from where the conference would be held. Margie and Jon sat down on a nearby bench but you felt the need to wander. Without realizing which direction you had taken, you found your legs carrying you towards the stage setup.

\----------

Screw his “public appearance suit.” Bucky had tossed the jacket in the car with the other gear and announced he’d put it on when he had to. For now, he needed to clear his head. Back in his usual jacket with his glove in place and hat pulled low, he found himself wandering towards the park, momentarily forgetting that was where the conference would be held.

When he came around the corner, there was the stage setup happening. Most people were ignoring it, but there was one woman watching, and when his eyes landed on her Bucky’s heart nearly stopped. She was beautiful, with her bright eyes and hair blowing slightly in the breeze. She was in a tank top and shorts, both of which fit nicely to her curves. But what really caught his attention was her arm, or lack of it. She was missing her left arm and didn’t seem to care who knew, leaving it out in the open for all to see.

He found himself drawn closer…

\----------

You were almost finished with your ice cream when you felt a presence next to you. Glancing up, your eyes met the most beautiful ice blues you had ever seen. Damn, you didn’t know eyes that pretty existed. It felt like a jolt of electricity surged through you when you saw them.

“H-hi,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry to bother you… I don’t even know why I came over. It just sort of…happened.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how obviously flustered he was. It was rather flattering, having a man so attractive nervous around you. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but as you can see,” you raise the remnant of your cone, “I’ve only got one and it’s a bit preoccupied at the moment. I’m Y/N. Are you here for the press conference?”

“Um, sort of, I guess. I was more trying to clear my head before it, but I just ended up here early.” He gave a half smile and glanced briefly to the stage. “Although I’m thinking that might be okay. I’m… James.”

“Y/N, if he didn’t have two arms I’d be asking if you finally met your soulmate.” Jon came up behind you and threw his arm around your shoulders, giving the man an appreciative once-over. “Margie and I met right over there, under those trees. I’m telling you, this place is a soulmate magnet.”

“Jon, you’re embarrassing the poor man,” Margie scolded as she joined the three of you. “Sorry about him. I’m Margie and this incorrigible mouth is Jon.” 

“James,” he replied with a smile.

Jon was still eyeing James. “Have you met your soulmate yet? Because I’m sure Margie wouldn’t mind adding a third to –” He was cut off by a slap to the back of his head, courtesy of his fiancée.

“I… I don’t think I have a soulmate,” James mumbled, blushing. “I mean, it’s been a long time since I even considered the possibility…”

You gasped. “But everyone has a soulmate! Sometimes you just meet them later in life.”

He gave you a rueful grin. “It’s probably too late in my life.”

“You can’t be that old,” scoffed Jon. “Besides, even crazy people have soulmates; Y/N is proof of that. Seriously, Y/N, with all the stuff that happens to you I’m beginning to wonder if your soulmate was raised by a serial killer.”

“They’re probably just a soldier who’s a bit older than I am,” you glared at Jon and shrugged his arm off your shoulders. “Getting shot and stabbed every few years does not mean someone is related to a serial killer.”  
Jon rolled his eyes. You were about to shove him when you noticed a strange look on James’s face.

\----------

Bucky froze. No, it couldn’t be. He was born in 1917, and you had to be younger than thirty. There was no way he could have a soulmate from a different time period, could he?

But there you were, missing your left arm, and now that he was closer he noticed scars all over your body. There was one along your collar bone where he’d been stabbed making his exit in ‘99. There was the still-healing wound on your leg he had gotten just yesterday with Bruce’s perfect stitches holding it closed. There were his scars marking your beautiful body. He thought he might throw up.

“James?” Your sweet voice was full of concern. “Are you all right?”

“I… I…” he swallowed, trying to figure out how to tell you.

“Do you need to sit down?” You had dropped the rest of your ice cream cone and reached out to grasp his arm. “Do you need water? I can bring you water.”

There was only one way to do this, he decided. “Y/N… can I show you something?”

“Of course,” you replied, eyebrows furrowed.

He couldn’t look in your concerned eyes for fear he’d lose his courage. Slowly, he reached down and pulled up his pant leg, revealing a knife wound identical to the one you bore.

\----------

Your heart skipped a beat. But… he had two arms. Was this really possible? You had to be sure.

Slowly, you raised your shirt just far enough to reveal the second wound on your side. James raised his shirt to reveal the same wound.

“No way.” Jon was of course the one to break the silence. “This park is magical. Soulmate central, am I telling – ow.” He broke off as Margie grabbed his arm and dragged him off to give the two of you some privacy.

You had dreamed of this moment for so long. It had played out in dozens of ways in your mind, none of them involving meeting your soulmate in the park before a press conference you hadn’t even wanted to attend, and none involving the stricken look that was on James’s face. It hurt, seeing him so upset to meet you, so you did the only thing you could think of, whether it was the right thing to do or not.

You wrapped your arm around him, buried your face in his chest, and burst into tears.


	2. Who He Is and How He Feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's at this point in writing that I melted into a puddle and may not have yet recovered.
> 
> Also, I hate formatting. Never again for flashbacks.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to respond to you sobbing into his chest, but his arms instinctively curled around you. Was this a normal reaction women had when meeting their soulmates?

“Bucky, there you are, we’ve been looking all over for –”

Steve cut off when he saw you crying in his best friend’s arms. Bucky met his eyes and mouthed a frantic, “Help me!” Steve just shook his head. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was he did not want to get in the middle of it and immediately began backpedaling.

“Press conference starts in half an hour. Come on over whenever you’re done here. No rush.” And with that, Steve was off.

Bucky stared at the retreating form of his friend. _Thanks for the help, Steve._ He looked down at you and awkwardly patted you on the back.

“Can I, uh, get you…anything?”

You shook your head, keeping your face buried in his chest.

“Uh, okay. I, uh, I’m sure meeting your soulmate for the first time is, um, overwhelming, but uh, if there’s anything I can do…”

“Why don’t you want me?” Your muffled words surprised him.

Instinctively he lifted your chin up to face him. “Why would you think I don’t want you?”

You blinked to clear some of the tears from your eyes. “You looked so upset when you realized we’re soulmates, and I just assumed…”

“Oh, doll, no, never.” He melted as he looked into your eyes. “I was shocked I even have a soulmate and, well… really upset you have to have so many scars.” His left hand ran up and down your side. “You’re so perfect and beautiful, and you don’t deserve anything that’s happened to you because of me.”

You frowned and he felt an urge to rub away the crease that formed between your brows. “But it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t shoot or stab yourself, right?”

“Well, no,” Bucky conceded.

“So it’s not your fault.” Your eyes suddenly widened. “Why were you shocked to have a soulmate? I’ve never met anyone without one before.”

How was he supposed to explain this? With most people, he could simply tell them his story, or parts of it anyway; most people found out eventually anyway. But with you, he was afraid you would think he was lying or be scared off. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything else had since he had escaped. Telling you why he hadn’t expected to have a soulmate would lead to what he did for HYDRA, and while logically he knew none of it had been his fault, he still didn’t really believe that. What if you didn’t believe it either?

\----------

“James?” He had gone silent after you had asked your last question, and he looked like he was lost in another world.

“Sorry, doll.” His focus snapped back to you. “There’s just no easy way to explain this… You’re here for the press conference, right?”

The change in topic felt like whiplash, but you somehow managed to nod.

“I have to go, but I’ll be right back when it’s over, I promise. Please don’t leave.” He squeezed your hand. “I promise it will all make sense once the conference is over.”

You nodded. There was something in his tone that made you want to trust what he told you. You shivered a bit as he pulled away, missing his warmth already.

“I’ll see you after the conference,” you whispered.

James leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back. Meet me right here.” Then he was gone. You wrapped your arm around yourself and prayed he’d be back.

“Did he just… leave you?” Jon sounded scandalized as he came back over to you, his fiancée trailing behind him.

Margie frowned at him. “Jon, we really need to invest in a ‘think before you speak’ filter for your mouth.”

Your eyes were still lingering on the stage, the direction in which James had disappeared. “He said to watch the press conference and he’d be back when it’s over. I’m meeting him right here.”

Jon shrugged. “That’s probably safe. He’s your soulmate. I doubt he could leave for good even if he wanted to.”

“Jon!” Margie was aghast. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He doesn’t think at all, I swear.” She shot Jon a glare. “Of course he’ll be back when he said he would be.”

You ignored the argument the two of them fell into. I wonder why he was so surprised to have a soulmate…

\----------

_**1926** _

“Stevie, what happened to your arm?” Bucky eyed his best friend’s skinned elbow. “Was it Jack? Is he giving you trouble again? Because I can –”

“No, it’s okay, Bucky,” Steve cut in. “I think my soulmate must’ve fallen off their bike or something. It just happened this morning on the way to school.”

“Oh… okay then. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Steve assured him. “It did a little when it happened, but not anymore.”

“That’s good.”  
Bucky fell silent as they walked along. His sisters had gotten marks from their soulmates before; his mom always cooed over them when they cried, telling them it was okay and it meant that there was someone out there who would love them fiercely. He had never gotten one, though. His mom told him he was still young. Maybe his soulmate was still a baby, or maybe they hadn’t been born yet. He hoped she was right. Steve was younger than he was and had gotten hurt several times from his soulmate, although Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if Steve’s soulmate injured themselves out of spite for how many fights Steve got in. He was jealous every time.

_You’re still young. You’ve got time to find your soulmate. They’re probably still a baby. I promise, the age difference won’t seem like so much when you’re older._

Bucky really hoped his mom was right.

_**1928** _

“You’re sure this isn’t from doing something stupid?”

Steve sighed at Bucky and waved his cast. “I swear, Buck, it just happened. I was just sitting and drawing.”

“Mmhmm.” Bucky eyed his friend. “I’d better not find out you’re lying, punk. And if you’re not, I’ve got a few words for your soulmate when we finally meet them. They get hurt even more than you do, and I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Well, there has to be something that makes us perfect for each other,” Steve quipped with a grin.

“Oh, great.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ll end up stuck with two of you.”

Steve threw his good arm around his buddy’s shoulders, a difficult task considering the difference in height that already separated them. “You know you’ll love it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky playfully but carefully jabbed Steve in the ribs. “Remind me of that when the two of you are in the hospital with twice the injuries because you were dumb enough to get into fights at the same time. Maybe they’ll at least be able to hold their own.”

The two bantered back and forth until they were each called home to dinner. Bucky never would have admitted it, but he would have given an arm to have a sign that he had a soulmate like everyone else.

_**1931** _

“What’s wrong, Stevie? You look down.”

Steve looked up at his best friend and sighed, fists balled at his sides. “I just got this overwhelming feeling of frustration and sadness, and I don’t know why.”

Bucky sat on the step next to Steve and put his arm around his friend. “It’s probably from your soulmate. How about we go have some fun to try to send some good feelings back?”

“That would be nice.” Steve offered his friend a small smile and took his hand when Bucky reached to pull him up. “What should we do?”

“Milkshakes at Martin’s. I’m buying.”

“Well, you sure do know how to cheer a guy up.”

The friends grinned at each other before racing down the street. Bucky focused really hard on how much he enjoyed spending time with Steve in the hope that if he had a soulmate, they would get a little burst of happiness.

But the years went on and Bucky still never got so much as a scratch he couldn’t explain. His mother had long stopped suggesting maybe his soulmate was just younger than he was. Steve got injuries regularly that couldn’t be explained by his fights. Two of his sisters had now met their soulmates. Every person he met in college had experienced something from their soulmate, and a few had met them already. What was so wrong with him that he’d never felt anything?

Then the war came. He and Steve both tried to enlist, but he was the only one they accepted. When he was captured and subsequently rescued by Steve, he learned not only that his friend had signed up for the super-soldier program, but also that he had met his soulmate. Her name was Peggy and they were perfect together, both passionate about fighting for what they believed was right. Bucky couldn’t help but feel jealous despite how happy he was for his friend.

“Don’t worry,” Steve had said one night between two of the Howling Commandos’ missions. “You’ll meet your soulmate soon, and we can all go dancing.” He elbowed his friend in the side. “It’ll be way better than any of those double-dates you tried to set up for us in college.”

“I don’t think I have a soulmate,” Bucky finally admitted out loud. “You had signs of her before you met Peggy. Everyone has had scratches or bruises, or felt something when their soulmate had a strong emotional reaction to something. I’ve never had any of that.”

Steve had of course tried to encourage him, but they were just empty platitudes to Bucky. He’d never shown his romantic side much, but he was desperate for someone to share his life with. Someone he could love completely and would love him the same, for the rest of their lives. The thought that he might not have someone like that tormented him.

He fell from the train the next mission. _At least I don’t have a soulmate who will miss me…_

\----------

_**Present day:** _

Bucky hid behind the stage, fiddling with the only sleeve he had as Tony called the press conference to order. He was both relieved to know you were in the audience and terrified how you would react when you learned your soulmate was a 101-year-old weapon. 

Why did he have to meet you now? Why couldn’t it have been some time when he had all the time in the world to process the fact that he has a soulmate before having to tell you about his past? He could have talked to Steve, gotten to know you a little, and had a better idea of how you would react.

“…are proud to present to you the newest member of the Avengers, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier!”

That was his cue. He slipped into what he hoped was a neutral expression – _come on, Barnes, you should be better at controlling your emotions than this_ – and ascended the stage to stand beside Tony and the rest of the team. The press were shouting questions all at once and members of the gathered crowd each had their own reactions, but the only face he looked for was yours.

There you were, in the exact spot where he’d left you, standing next you your friends. Your hand had come up over your mouth and your eyes were locked on him. He couldn’t make out your expression.  
If you hated him, he didn’t think he could take it.

The same warm feeling he’d felt yesterday hit him again. This time, it was five times stronger.

\----------

Your life hadn’t made sense until this moment. Suddenly the strange things you’d gone through had context. Your incidents were when he was injured on missions, and they were so far apart because he was frozen the rest of the time. You may not know all the details of what happened, but you knew the general story; everyone had heard it since Steve Rogers had first brought him back. Heck, half the patrons at the library had asked what you knew about the whole thing. Apparently, you were about to learn a whole lot more.

The Winter Soldier was your soulmate.

Jon was babbling about something to your left with Margie frantically trying to shush him, but all you could focus on was the beautiful man on stage with his eyes locked on you. Your heart went out to him, seeing him so vulnerable. You wanted to strangle the reporter who asked why Tony thought “a brainwashed killer” made a good addition to the team; Natasha instantly became your favorite other team member when she beat everyone else to stepping in to defend him.

How dare anyone try to hurt this beautiful, precious man? He had gone through hell, but you’d looked in his eyes and seen goodness, and you’d fight anyone who accused him of being a monster.

\----------

Bucky headed straight for you as soon as the press conference was over, ignoring the questions from lingering reporters who fortunately weren’t curious enough to want to get close to him. You saw him coming and saw one question in his eyes.

_Do you hate me?_

You met him halfway and pulled him down into a kiss. He immediately kissed back, his mouth desperate and needy. You weren’t entirely sure you were kissing him properly – you’d been determined to save your first kiss for your soulmate, so you had zero practice – but kissing Bucky felt right. You melted into him and wove your fingers through his hair. He wrapped his metal arm, now on display in the jacket he’d changed into, around your body and pulled you closer, cupping your jaw with his flesh hand. When you finally had to breathe, you pulled your head back but kept yourself tucked against him.

“You don’t hate me?” he whispered, the question breaking your heart.

“How could I hate the most precious man in the world?” you asked.

His eyes shone wet, but no tears fell. A smile broke across his face.

_She doesn’t hate me._

\----------

Flashbulbs went off around the two of you as Bucky leaned down and kissed you again, but you both ignored them.

“Come, meet the team,” he said excitedly, gently tugging on your hand.

Your mind briefly registered reporters swarming around Margie and Jon, asking how they knew you and how long you had been in a relationship with the Winter Soldier, but all your mind could focus on was James’s smile as he led you towards the back of the stage.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” a tall blond asked as the two of you arrived backstage.

“Guy’s I have an important introduction.” Everyone stopped to look at Bucky as he beamed down at you with the biggest smile they’d ever seen him have. “This is Y/N, my soulmate.”

There was a unanimous reaction of shock on everyone’s faces. Bucky didn’t blame them; he was still reeling himself.

“It’s true,” you offered shyly. “James and I are soulmates.”

“Well, what do you know,” Steve said, finding his voice first. “Your mom was right, Bucky. She wasn’t born yet.”

Bucky grinned at your confused look. “I’ll explain later,” he whispered.

\----------

The day turned out to be rather overwhelming. James – Bucky – had asked you to move into the tower to help keep you safe; the press had had a field day adding finding his soulmate to the story of the Winter Soldier joining the Avengers. He offered you your own room and you accepted, wanting a bit more space while the two of you adjusted to being in each other’s lives. Of course, he had to meet your family too, and before you knew it the whole day had been a flurry of activity.

That evening, there was a knock on the door of your new room.

“Come in,” you called softly as you continued studying the view from your new window.

“I hope I’m not intruding.” Steve sounded hesitant, so you turned and gave him a smile.

“Not at all. What brings you by, Captain?”

“Please, call me Steve.” He joined you by the window and the two of you surveyed the view together. “I just wanted to check in with you. You and Bucky have both had quite the day. Are you doing okay?”

“I think so. Meeting Bucky… my life hadn’t made a whole lot of sense until that moment. It’s a big change, but it’s very welcome.”

Steve nodded. “Good. Bucky has never had a soulmate before, and even in the 40s he was convinced he didn’t have one. Meeting you has made him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

Your brow creased as you took in his words. “Really? I thought for sure I’d be his second soulmate. I know they’re rare, but with, well, how old the two of you are…”

“It’s a logical assumption,” Steve reassured you, “but no, you’re not his second. He never had any signs of a soulmate as kids. It was hard for him to deal with, I think, although he hid it very well.” He turned to you and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I guess the real reason I came in was to make sure you knew how much you mean to him. He’s been through hell, and I think you might be what helps him come to terms with that. He blames himself for everything HYDRA made him do, and it’s killed his self-esteem. I can tell you think the world of him when you look at him. All I ask is you try to help him think better of himself again.”

You nodded. “I can promise you, Steve, I’ll do my very best.”


	3. Planning Surprises and the Start of a War

The next morning you padded down to the kitchen for breakfast. Tony was already there and pouring himself some coffee, while Bruce was at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal. 

“So, Y/N,” Tony launched into conversation as soon as he saw you, “if Shuri and I were to, say, design you an arm like the one Barnes has, what input would you have for the aesthetical design?”

“Well, I suppose I’d want it to be feminine and badass,” you replied with a laugh, “but I don’t think an arm like that would work for me. Bucky had a regular arm before his metal one. I’ve never had a left arm, so my brain wouldn’t have the neural pathways in place to control it.”

“I have a theory about that,” Bruce offered from the table. “Tony and I talked about this. The way soulmates work is still pretty much a scientific mystery, but what we do know is that your body and Bucky’s are in a way linked. It’s possible that his neural pathways for controlling his left arm are also in your brain, but the only way we can find out for sure is to give you an arm and map your brain’s reaction.”

You took the mug of coffee Tony offered you and considered what Bruce had said. If it was possible for you to have two arms, did you want to? There was a lot you would have to relearn if you had two arms, but there was also a lot you could do that you hadn’t been able to until now.

“You’re serious about giving me an arm?” you asked the two of them. They both nodded and waited patiently as you thought. “Then I think I’d like to try,” you finally said, taking a sip of your coffee. “But can we not tell Bucky yet? It’s experimental, and I don’t want him to worry.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony confirmed as his face lit up with a smile. “I’ll call Shuri!” He darted off in a direction you assumed led to his lab.

Bruce smiled at Tony’s excitement before turning his eyes back to you. “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he assured you. “Tony won’t be offended if you’d rather stay the way you are. I’m sure missing an arm has been an even bigger part of your life than any of us are capable of imagining.”

“I know, but I really do think I’d like to try. It’s not like my whole identity is wrapped up in missing an arm; it’s just something I’ve had to live with. Plus I’ve never been one to shy away from trying something new, and this certainly qualifies.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Bruce nodded. “If you change your mind just let us know.”

“I appreciate your concern, and I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bruce deposited his now-empty bowl in the dishwasher and gave you a small nod as he followed after Tony and left you alone with your thoughts.

Did you really want this? You had never cared much for wearing prosthetics, but this wouldn’t be a prosthetic in the same way yours was. This wouldn’t be an attempt at seeming “normal” or “whole.” This one would actually work like a regular arm. It would be something you had in common with Bucky, and that thought felt rather comforting.

Yes, you decided, you really did want this. You just didn’t want Bucky to know about it yet.

\----------

The gym was full of the sounds of sparring practice when you stumbled across it. Exploring your new home had seemed like a fun idea, but you were definitely lost by now and hoped you’d find someone you knew.

You definitely knew the pair you found. Steve and Bucky were in the middle of a sparring match, moving around the ring throwing and dodging punches. Neither was wearing a shirt and you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky’s torso, watching the muscles move as he grappled with Steve.

Steve was the first to notice you staring. He smirked at you and twisted the two of them around so Bucky could see you were there. Your presence surprised him enough that Steve got the upper hand and soon had his friend pinned to the floor.

“Looks like I win today,” Steve smirked as he helped Bucky up.

“Yeah, but I get a pretty consolation prize,” Bucky grinned, ducking out of the ring. His arms wrapped you in a hug and you breathed in the smell of sweat and leather and Bucky. “What brings you here, doll?”

“I got lost while exploring,” you admitted sheepishly. “I heard you two sparring and was hoping it would be someone I knew.”

“Too bad it was just us,” joked Steve as he joined the two of you. He pulled on a shirt and tossed one to Bucky.

“No.” You grabbed the shirt from your soulmate before he could put it on and buried your face back in his chest, clinging to him. “Leave it off. I like this.”

“Doll,” Bucky chuckled, blushing, “I’m done with my workout. I need to get ready for the rest of the day. I can even give you a guided tour of the tower so you won’t get lost again, but,” he gently tugged on the fabric in your hands, “I’m gonna need my shirt first.”

“So extend your workout.” You grinned at him cheekily. “Spar with me.”

Steve choked on his water. “I think I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, making a bid for the exit.

Bucky looked bewildered. “I’m not gonna spar with you, doll. You could get hurt.”

Ignoring his protests, you ran to the ring and climbed in. “Come on, Barnes,” you teased, “you afraid of getting beaten by a girl?”

“Doll,” he explained patiently, “you only have one arm and I’m a super soldier.”

“And I,” you countered, “have the same additional strength and healing capabilities, plus a job where I lug books around all day. I’m not delicate. Come on, spar with me.”

Bucky gave in with a sigh. “Fine, but I’m stopping if I even think you might get hurt.” 

He climbed in the ring and took his stance, cocking an eyebrow at the stance you took. You merely smiled at him. Bucky made the first move, and within twenty seconds you had him on the floor, pinned under your legs.

“What the –”

Your laughter hid the end of his sentence.

“Seriously, doll, where did you learn how to do that?” he asked as you let him up.

You shrugged. “My soulmate got stabbed or shot every few years. Self-defense classes were a high priority.”

“Next time I’ll know not to go easy on you,” he grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “You fight like Nat, and I mean that as the highest compliment.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice spoke from the ceiling. “Mr. Stark would like me to inform you that as fun as you both have been to watch, Ms. Y/L/N is needed in the lab and Mr. Barnes is needed in the debriefing room.”

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Bucky sighed. “I guess next time will have to be later. Can I have my shirt now?”

You tossed him his shirt and he slipped it on.

“Catch you later, soldier.” You kissed him before heading in the direction of the lab.

Bucky watched you retreat down the hallway and sighed. Yeah, you were his soulmate, but he still felt like a kid with a crush. All he wanted to do was chase after you and spend the day with you in his arms.

Reluctantly, he turned toward the debriefing room. He’d have to catch up with you later.

\----------

“Hi!” The smiling girl on the monitor waved at you. “I’m Shuri. I designed Bucky’s current arm and will be working with Tony to design yours as well.”

“Hi, Shuri.” You returned the wave. “I’m Y/N.”

“So, first things first,” Tony said, motioning to a square marked off on the floor. “We need full scans of your dimensions and mass so the arm will be perfectly balanced with your flesh one. Your shoulder seems to have fully developed the muscles required to move the arm you don’t yet have, probably thanks to Barnes, so while having a left arm will probably feel foreign, it shouldn’t be too much for your shoulder to handle. Stand here and Friday will do all the work.”

Shuri spoke up as you stepped into the square and were surrounded by holographic diagnostics. “Tony said you requested something ‘feminine and badass.’ Did you have an idea of what that looks like in your mind?”

“Not specifically,” you replied, “but I like the contrast in Bucky’s arm. His previous one was mostly silver, but this one is darker with bronze-colored accents along the plating. I really like how that looks.”

Shuri was typing something as you talked, adding in the diagnostics F.R.I.D.A.Y. was sending her.

“How’s this?” she asked as a holographic prototype appeared in front of her. Your eyes went wide with wonder.

You gasped. “It’s perfect!”

\----------

Bucky found Nat and Clint waiting for him in the briefing room.

“Hey, guys, F.R.I.D.A.Y. said I was needed here?”

“We’ve been elected to give you the talk,” Nat said, her face expressionless.

“The talk?” Bucky was confused. “What talk do you mean?”

“The ‘how to not get distracted when your soulmate is always around’ talk,” Clint explained.

Bucky cocked his head. “And why were you two elected for giving me this 'talk'?”

Clint shrugged. “Because I’m good at giving it and Nat is scary so maybe you’ll listen?”

“What’s really going on?” Bucky squinted, his eyes shifting between the pair facing him.

The door behind him closed and locked.

“We may have been asked to keep you away from Y/N for a few hours so she can plan a surprise,” Nat smirked at him.

“And, ‘Bucky, go away, I’m planning a surprise,’ wasn’t good enough?”

Clint shook his head. “Don’t ever question a woman with a say in your love life, Barnes. That’s rule number three, right after never tell a woman she looks fat and never guess their age or weight. Four is never ask if a woman’s pregnant, by the way, no matter how far along she looks.”

Bucky shot Nat a pained expression. “If I promise to stay away from Y/N until she seeks me out, can I get out of listening to him for the next few hours?”

“Nope,” she laughed, “you’re stuck with us.”

Bucky flopped into a seat and placed his head in his hands as Clint launched into his full list of rules for dealing with women. It was going to be a long afternoon.

\----------

“Next time you want me out of the way to plan a surprise, just ask. Don’t involve Nat and please don’t involve Clint.”

The absolute exhaustion on Bucky’s face drew an involuntary chuckle as you took in his frame splayed out across one of the common room couches.

“Asking them was actually Tony’s idea,” you admitted as you settled on the armrest by his head and looked down into his eyes. “I promise to just ask next time. I can’t promise to control what he plans, though.”

“I should have known it was Tony’s fault.” Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. “So he’s involved in your surprise?”

You reached down to stroke your fingers through his hair and ignored his question. “Are you all right?”

He groaned. “No. My best friend and my girl both kicked my ass in the gym this morning, I had to listen to Clint ramble on about how to be the perfect soulmate for the last three hours, and my room is being fumigated because someone thought it would be funny to release spiders in my room and at least one must have been pregnant. I walked into a room full of dots with hairy legs. I may never be all right again.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you crooned, working your hand down to his shoulders. “You need a place to sleep tonight?”

Bucky cracked one eye open and studied you. “I love you, doll, but I don’t think we’re quite ready to spend the night together.”

“No sex,” you promised, “just cuddling. And of course sleeping. Unless,” you smirked, dropping your voice, “you don’t think you’d be able to keep your hands off me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, closing his eye again. “I want to do this right, Y/N. I want to get to know you and really fall in love, not just the automatic emotion that comes along with meeting your soulmate. I want to fall in love with who you are yourself, not just what you are to me.”

“I appreciate that.” You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “The offer still stands, though. If you want a comfortable bed in a room that isn’t entirely strange and unfamiliar, you are welcome to sleep – just sleep – in my room with me tonight.”

His brow furrowed at your wording and he opened his eyes and sat up. “Have you been talking to Steve?”

“No,” you said softly, “I don’t need to. I’m your soulmate, Bucky. When you can’t sleep, I can feel why. The closer we are to each other, the stronger the connection is.”

Not only were his scars marking your body; now that you were together, his mental state was keeping you up at night. Was there no end to the suffering he caused you?

“I’m so sorry, doll.” His voice cracked on the pet name you loved. “You deserve so much better than this.”

“And so do you,” you replied, scooting closer and wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve your nightmares either, Bucky. You don’t deserve to feel like you have to be on guard constantly as soon as it’s dark. You deserve to be able to walk into a new room and not assume it contains a threat.” You pulled back to look in his eyes and brushed back a stray lock that had fallen in his face. “Let me help you with that tonight. Don’t stay in some cold, empty room. Stay with me. Let me be an anchor to safety during the time of day when you feel the least safe.”

Bucky pulled you close and buried his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet smell of your shampoo. He’d never done anything to deserve someone as wonderful as you.

“All right,” he finally relented. “I’ll stay with you, but we’re just sleeping.”

“Of course,” you assured him, running your hand up and down his back in what you hoped was a reassuring manner. “Whatever you need, love, I’m here.”

\----------

You managed to talk Bucky into going to bed a little early; after all, he had had a long day and very little sleep the night before. The two of you passed his room with something blocking the crack under the door (“You don’t understand how many spiders there are. They have to be contained!”) and arrived at your room. He went straight to your bed and face-planted in the middle of the pile of pillows.

“Bucky, darling,” you laughed softly, “I know you’re tired but you can’t sleep in your clothes.”

“Well I’m not sleeping naked,” he replied, words muffled by the pillows, “and all my clothing has to be in my room for the fumigation.” He lifted his head and grimaced. “I don’t want to know how many spiders are in my closet.”

Maybe Steve would have something. “I’ll be right back,” you told Bucky before ducking back out into the hall.

It only took you a few minutes to make it up one floor to where Steve’s room was. You confirmed with Friday that he was there before you knocked on the door.

“Come in,” called a quiet voice.

You peeked in and saw Steve at his desk, sketchbook open and pencil dancing across the paper.

“Sorry to intrude. Bucky’s clothing is all in his room with the spiders, and he needs something to sleep in and something for tomorrow.”

Steve smiled and looked up when he heard your voice. “Ah yes, the prank. For retaliation purposes, that was Clint, but you didn’t hear it from me.” He got up and headed towards his closet. “I should have some stuff he can borrow.” He ruffled through his clothing, mumbling to himself, before bringing you back a neatly folded stack. “Here. He likes sleeping in gym shorts and a t-shirt, so that’s these. His waist is a bit thicker than mine, but I think they’ll fit since they stretch. Here are some sweats and a shirt for tomorrow, since my jeans definitely wouldn’t fit him.”

“Yeah,” you grinned, looking Steve up and down, “you are a bit more… Dorito shaped.”

He chuckled at your comment. “Dorito shaped, huh? Thanks, I guess?”

With a final thank you to Steve, you made your way back to your room where you found Bucky still on your bed, now with his body wrapped around your favorite pillow.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you said softly, setting the clothing next to him and running your hand through his hair. “Steve sent shorts and a t-shirt for you to sleep in. You need to get up and change before you’re completely out.”  
He blinked up at you and hugged your pillow tighter. “But this smells like you.”

“If you change, you can hug actual me when you lie back down.”

That worked; he was up and reaching for the clothing almost immediately. You laughed at his eagerness and ducked into the bathroom so you would each have some privacy as you changed.

When you came back out, he was pulling Steve’s shirt over his head. It fit him snugly in the shoulders the same way it fit Steve, but unlike on Steve it also stretched tightly over his abdomen, highlighting the musculature of his entire torso. The shorts were also tighter on him than on Steve, but fortunately for your blood pressure they were still a little loose.

Bucky turned and noticed your perusal. “Like what you see?” he grinned.

“Always,” you replied cheekily, giving him a hug. “I won the soulmate lottery.”

He blushed at the compliment. “I’m not that great a catch, doll. I’m pretty messed up.”

“We all are in some way or another.” You brushed back his stubborn lock of hair and looked into his eyes. “It doesn’t mean you’re worth any less.” You tucked your head against his chest and gave him a quick squeeze before pulling back. “You are a gem, James Buchanan Barnes, and don’t you forget it. Now come on, you need sleep.”

He settled in bed with you tucked against his chest, and soon your even breathing told him you were asleep. Sleep eluded Bucky a while longer; his mind was busy wondering how he’d gotten so lucky as to find someone as perfect as you.


	4. The Surprise Happens and Y/N Avenges Her Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this I love. Parts of this I hate. Those parts coincide with what was easy or difficult to write. Sue me.

You awoke with the weight of Bucky’s metal arm across your stomach, warm from being pressed against your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. His deep, even breaths tickled the back of your neck and caused you to smile. He’d slept soundly all night.

With a groan and a sigh, Bucky pulled you in closer and snuggled his face into the crook of your shoulder. You tried to wiggle out of his arms to get up but he held you tighter.

“Mmmmm,” he mumbled, “don’t go.”

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” you whispered. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Bucky let out a disgruntled huff but released you. You came back over to the bed when you were done.

“Here.” Bucky patted the bed next to him and gave you his best puppy dog eyes. “Snuggle with me?”

“I’d love to, but I have to get ready for work.”

His face screwed up. “You have work today?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his confused expression. “Yes, Bucky, I have work today. We met on Saturday and yesterday was Sunday. Today is Monday and I have to work.”

It was as though Bucky had made it his goal to make it impossible for you to get ready. He got up and practically hung from your shoulders as you selected your outfit for the day, only letting go when you shooed him out of the bathroom for your shower. Fortunately by the time you were out, Bucky was no longer in your room. You quickly finished getting ready for the day and headed toward the kitchen to see what you could grab for breakfast.  
The smell of sausage and eggs assailed your senses as you approached, and to your surprise you found Bucky in the kitchen, wearing a green apron and standing over the stove.

“Perfect timing,” he grinned as you entered. “The toast should be up any minute and I just finished the sausage and eggs.” The sound of the toast popping up punctuated his sentence.

You moved to the toaster and pulled the four pieces of bread out. “What would you like on yours?”

“Strawberry jam, please,” he replied distractedly as he plated the eggs and sausage. 

You went ahead and put jam on all four pieces and brought them to where he was setting the plates on the table. His face lit up when he saw them.

“Yes!” He saw your curious look and explained, “Steve’s the only other one around here who uses enough jam.”

Laughing, you replied, “Well, you’ve got to have enough to taste it.”

“Exactly!”

The breakfast conversation topics ranged around your favorite foods as the two of you got to know each other. You learned that Bucky would try anything at least once because he was so fascinated by the different cuisines from all over the world that could now be found in New York. He was telling you about his favorite Indian restaurant when you realized you had to leave immediately if you were going to make it to work on time.  
Without thinking about it, you gave Bucky a quick peck on the cheek as you rushed out. He sat in his chair for several minutes with a big grin on his face before finally getting up to do the dishes.

\----------

“Okay, Y/N, spill everything.” Margie practically assaulted you as you entered through the back door. “Jon’s been begging me to call you all weekend, and if I go home with nothing he just might kill me.”

You laughed at your coworker’s expression. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s he like? Is he different with you than with other people? Does the metal arm freak you out at all? Are you going to talk him into getting a haircut?” She sighed. “Also, Jon wants to know if the sex is amazing, but you don’t have to tell me. Please don’t tell me, actually. Tell me to tell him to forget about ever finding out.”

“We haven’t had sex yet,” you admitted. “He’s really sweet and wants to fall in love with who I am before we go that far, rather than take that step just because we’re soulmates. He’s quieter around most other people, but he doesn’t change his personality for anyone. The metal arm does not freak me out and,” you dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “I may be getting my own soon, but he doesn’t know that yet.”

Margie’s screech brought Andrew out of his office with his phone in hand. 

“Who’s hurt? Do I need to call 911?”

“Y/N is getting a metal arm!” 

Andrew sighed and tucked his phone back in his pocket. “As epically cool as that is, could we save the horror film sound effects for actual emergencies, please?”

“Might be getting a metal arm,” you corrected Margie. “Tony and Bruce think it will work since Bucky has one, but since I’ve never had a left arm, we’re not positive my brain will know what to do with it. We won’t know until we try it.”

“I’m guessing you need leave for recovery when you have it attached?” Andrew asked.

Your eyes grew wide. “I didn’t think about that. I’ll ask Tony tonight what he recommends.”

“Go ahead and call him,” Andrew suggested. “The sooner we can plan the schedule, the better. Worst case, I have to help Margie for a couple hours a day until Karen gets here at noon.”

“I’ll do that,” you nodded, pulling out your phone and turning to Margie. “And I’ll sanitize the computer keyboards when I’m done. Can you go ahead and get today’s paperwork started?”

“It’s what I do best,” she replied with a grin. “Go call Iron Man, with whom you’re now on a first-name basis. Jon is gonna be so jealous.”

You laughed and placed your call as she headed out front. 

\----------

Tony had squealed like a little girl when he heard your voice. Your leave happened much earlier than you were expecting, but your boss had been fully supportive. Happy arrived within the hour to smuggle you back to the tower without Bucky finding out. You wouldn’t be back to work until the next week.

Shuri had already fabricated your new arm and sent it via courier along with the equipment used to install Bucky’s current arm. It was even more beautiful than you had imagined it would be. Looking at it, you felt a burst of excitement bubble up in your stomach. You were getting an arm just like Bucky’s!

Bruce talked to you through the prep for your procedure, telling you what to expect and how long it would likely take.

“We’re not sure how the anesthetic will work since you’re affected by the same serum as Bucky,” he told you, “but since we want to surprise him with your arm and he’ll feel anything you feel during the procedure, we’re going to knock you both out. That combined anesthetic, without actually having the double dose in your system, should be enough. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will be monitoring just in case. You still want to do this?”

You nodded. “I really do. How are you going to knock Bucky out without telling him, though?”

“Oh, we’ve got our best people on it,” Tony laughed, coming in. “There’s no one better for the job.”

“You sent Clint, didn’t you?”

“I sent Clint.”

\----------

Clint grinned to himself as he stalked his prey, crawling through the air ducts above the common room. Nat had placed herself exactly where he had asked her to, putting her conversation partner in just the right spot. He had been in position for just over a minute when she flashed him the signal. With a smirk, he lined up his shot and let his arrow fly.

“What the hell?”

Barnes mumbled and clawed at the tranquilizer dart before he hit the floor, Tony’s specialized super-strength knockout drug rapidly working its way through his system.

Natasha shot a thumb’s up at the vent Clint had fired through, and he kicked the cover open so he could drop himself down into the room.

“Mission complete,” she told him.

“I never miss,” he replied with a laugh. Barnes would be pissed when he woke up, but he’d leave that for Y/N to deal with. After all, it was technically her fault anyway.

\----------

Bucky woke slowly with a dull ache in his left shoulder and a set of timpani beating wildly in his head. Nat stood over him with an amused look on her face.

“Where is he?” Bucky demanded as he lifted himself off the floor. “I’m gonna kill that stupid archer.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t, babe.” Your voice came from behind him.

He turned to face you and his breath caught in his throat. There you were, standing in the doorway to the common room, metal hanging at your side where you had been missing an arm. It was beautiful, rose gold with silver accents, styled the same as his, somehow completely feminine and completely you. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Do you like it?” you asked shyly.

He slowly walked over and reached out to run his flesh hand up and down the metal.

“Like it?” he whispered meeting your eyes, his voice an octave lower than normal. “Doll, I may not be able to keep my hands off you anymore. This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You beamed at him even as a blush spread across your cheeks. “Now you know how I feel about yours,” you teased.

Bucky shook his head. “Mine is a weapon. Yours is a work of art.”

“Yours is as beautiful as the man attached to it, and that makes it pretty damn attractive.”

It was Bucky’s turn to blush. He couldn’t bring himself to keep eye contact, so he turned his attention back to your new arm.

“Does this one work the same as mine?”

“Yes,” you smiled, wiggling your new fingers. “It’s gonna take me a while to get used to having feeling on that side.”

“That took me some time to adjust to, too,” Bucky admitted. “My old arm didn’t have that feature, and my brain wasn’t sure how to react to receiving sensory input from that side again.”

“Let me guess, that would be the week I felt jumpy every fifteen minutes,” you grinned. Bucky grimaced.

“Sorry about that.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” you assured him. “I’m sure you’ll have to deal with the same thing from me for the next few weeks. But first, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”

With that, you wrapped both your arms around him in the first full hug you had ever given anyone. He returned your embrace and the two of you stood in each other’s arms far longer than necessary, never noticing that Nat had long since slipped out of the room.

\----------

“Ow.”

“You’re not quite fighting like Nat anymore,” Bucky chuckled as he held out his hand to help you up.

“I don’t know what to do with this arm! I’ve never had to use it before when fighting.” You took his offered hand and he hauled you off the mat.

He nodded. “That makes it a weakness. You’re good at using the rest of your limbs, but as soon as you don’t know what to do with a second arm, it becomes a tool for your opponent to use against you.”

“I knew telling Tony yes would mean having to relearn how to function,” you sighed. “How can your brain and body give me the ability to use this arm but not the muscle memory for how to fight with it?”

“We’re working on finding the answer to that,” Bruce commented from the edge of the ring. “Keep it up, guys. We’re getting some great readings.”

Bucky nodded and took his stance. “Remember what I showed you. Let’s run it again.”

“Fine.” You scratched at the sensor stuck to the left side of your neck and mimicked his position. “Come at me, bro.”

“I like your soulmate, Barnes,” Tony laughed. “I’m rooting for her to beat your ass.”

Tony and Bruce had set up monitors around the sparring ring in the gym and stuck twenty adhesive sensors all over your body so they could study how you were physically reacting to your new arm. F.R.I.D.A.Y. was monitoring and recording your movements, and they needed you to work your arm in a variety of motions. Bucky had taken the whole thing as an opportunity to teach you how to fight with two-armed combat. He insisted you were doing well, but after years of training you felt like a beginner again and were not enjoying it.

“Ow.” You hit the mat again. “Can I just stay here, please?”

“You’ve got the movement down,” Bucky assured you, “you just haven’t gotten it up to speed yet.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you shot him a glare. “I could have gotten up to speed with a punching bag. You just wanted revenge for Sunday.”

“Hey, every time you hit the mat I feel it too, you know.”

“Feel this.” You took his offered hand and jerked, pulling him down on top of you. 

“You realize,” he laughed, lying on top of you, “we both had to feel me falling on you and you being landed on?”

“Yeah,” you groaned, “I didn’t really think that through, did I?”

“Since you two look like you’re about to go all lovey-dovey on us,” Tony interrupted, “Bruce and I are gonna go. We’ve got all the readings we need for now.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Bruce added as he tried to pack up his gear. “We’ll let you know what we find out.” The last part of his sentence was swallowed by the door as Tony practically dragged him out of the gym.  
Bucky rolled off of you and turned his face to meet your eyes. “They forgot their sensors.”

“I noticed,” you replied drolly, pulling off the one that had been itching. “I’m not giving them back, though. These things can burn in hell.”

“I’m sure Tony has more.” Bucky laughed at your annoyed expression.

“Remind me again how I ended up their science experiment?”

“You said yes to this beautiful thing,” he replied, grabbing your metal hand and pressing a kiss to the palm. His voice dropped an octave as he continued, “I hope you know what it does to me?”

You scooted closer and kissed him on the cheek. “I hope it helps you realize even though the reason you have yours is ugly, your arm is still beautiful. You are not what was done to you, no matter how much your emotions lie about that.”

He sighed as you rested your foreheads together. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

“You did nothing to not deserve me,” you whispered. “I could ask you the same question, you know. The person you’ve become despite all you went through is remarkable, and I’ll be forever in awe of how kind and caring you are.”

The two of you stayed on the floor of the gym much longer than you had intended, your mouths expressing your love for each other without words until neither of you could breathe.

\----------

“I can’t believe you can carry that box knowing what’s in it. Where did you even get that thing?”

You shrugged, a motion Bucky caught from his safe distance of almost fifty feet behind you. “Tony found it somewhere. All I had to do was mention Clint and payback, and he was all in.”

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky said, “you found out from an ‘unnamed source’ that Clint was responsible for my spider problem, and this was the first thing you came up with?”

“Basically, yeah.” You placed the carrier just inside Clint’s room and opened the lid before closing the door tightly. “It seemed like an appropriate response.”

“Remind me to never get in a prank war with you.”

“Oooh,” you winced, “yeah, that would escalate too quickly for sure.”

It took two hours, but you were both rewarded with the satisfying sounds of Clint’s screams echoing through the whole tower. He stormed into the common room where the two of you were curled up on the couch, watching a movie. You looked up at him and attempted to appear innocent, but you were pretty sure you were failing.

“Something wrong, Barton?”

Clint crossed his arms and affixed you with a pointed glare.

“Where the hell did you even get a bird-eating spider?”


	5. The Article

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one gets to mess with Bucky. No one.

“I can’t believe you shot her.”

“ _I_ can’t believe you’re having a funeral for the nasty thing,” Clint scoffed as you carefully maneuvered the giant tarantula with an arrow through its head into a cardboard box. “It’s a spider. A giant, hairy, bird-eating spider. Also, I don’t want that arrow back.”

“A spider that did absolutely nothing to hurt you,” you countered, folding the box closed with the arrow still inside. “Now where are the other four?”

Clint paled and collapsed against the wall. “There are four more?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Of course not, but you shot Genevieve and released hundreds of spiders into Bucky’s room. If you think I’m done messing with you, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I think I hate you,” Clint muttered. “And who the hell names a foot-long spider Genevieve?”

“Are you really going to have a funeral for that thing?” Bucky asked as you exited Clint’s room.

“Of course,” you grinned. “I figured I’d do it Viking style; float the box in Tony’s bathtub and light it on fire.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Life with you around will never be boring, will it? Why Tony’s tub?”

“Life’s too short to be boring.” You grabbed his flesh hand with your metal one. “Tony’s got the biggest tub in the tower. Now come on! I want to get this thing lit on fire before he gets back.”

\----------

“I’m gonna have to replace my bathtub.”

You laughed at Tony’s horrified look and passed Bucky a paper plate piled high with five slices of pizza. It was dinner time and the whole team was perched in various places around the common room divvying up the contents of the numerous Pizza Hut boxes. You had situated yourself on the arm rest of the couch next to Bucky.

“Oh, come on, Stark, it’s not like the tub got damaged. The box just burned through before Genevieve caught fire and she sank.”

“It touched my tub,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can never step foot in it again. I liked that bathtub.” He shot Bucky a glare. “I’m holding you responsible for this. You’re the one who brought her here.”

“I’m okay with that,” Bucky agreed around a mouthful of pizza. “I like her.”

“You think you’ve got it bad? It was in my room,” Clint complained. “My room. I’ll never be able to sleep again.”

“I think you should all stop whining and take to heart the obvious lesson that is to be learned here,” Steve interjected with a grin. “Mess with Bucky and Y/N will slaughter you.”

You swallowed your bite of pizza and threw your arm around your soulmate. “What can I say? I’m fiercely protective.”

Bucky could practically feel himself melting into the couch as the evening went on. He’d never had anyone be protective of him in the way you were. Yes, Steve had always stood up for him, but that was different. Bucky had spent their childhood helping Steve out of the trouble he always got himself into. But here you were, arguably someone he should protect more than he ever had anyone else, and the moment anyone crossed him even as a prank you were defending him. It was a strange feeling, but Bucky found he very much liked it.

\----------

“Why strawberry?”

Bucky licked at a drip trying to make its way down his cone and laughed at your expression. “It’s a light and happy flavor that reminds me of being a kid. It’s not as strong as chocolate or as sweet as vanilla, and those were pretty much the only three flavors that were easy to come by back then. Why are you so surprised, Miss Cookie Dough?”

“I just didn’t expect strawberry to be your favorite flavor.” You shook your head. “Although now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense. It suits you in a way.”

The two of you were taking advantage of your time off work to go on your first official date. When you’d learned Bucky hadn’t been to a movie since the 40s you had dragged him to your favorite theater. His eyes had gone huge at the food selection available at the snack bar, and you’d had to remind him the prices had gone up to keep him from buying one of everything. He’d settled on a popcorn to share with you and a soda, while you got an Icee. After the movie, the two of you had stopped by a Cold Stone and each gotten a cone with your favorite flavors.

You were now eating them while strolling through the city, your flesh hand entwined in his metal one. It had taken some work to convince him he didn’t need to completely cover his metal arm in public, but he’d finally agreed as long as yours was visible as well. The two of you were in long-sleeve shirts, but Bucky wasn’t wearing his glove, and your heart swelled with pride when you saw him enjoying himself without thinking about his arm.

“Why is cookie dough your favorite?”

You pulled yourself out of your Bucky-centric reverie and smiled at him. “Ice cream and raw cookie dough are the two best sweet foods in existence. Putting them together was a stroke of genius. Who am I to turn down genius?”

“You turned down Tony’s idea for pizza with a bacon-stuffed crust,” he teased. “I thought that was pretty genius.”

“Only if your goal is death by heart attack,” you laughed, bumping your shoulder against his.

A movement to your left caught Bucky’s eye and had him pulling you closer. You had already been aware of the paparazzo since you had recognized him, but since the man had just spotted the two of you, Bucky’s “I’m under surveillance” radar went off.

“It’s okay, Buck,” you whispered, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “It’s just a photographer. He might take some pictures, but he won’t try to hurt either of us.”

Bucky nodded to confirm he’d heard you, but he didn’t relax. A passerby would probably just see two people eating ice cream, but you could tell his nerves were on edge.

The paparazzo did end up taking a few pictures from a distance, but didn’t follow you as you lead Bucky towards the park where you had met. The further from him you got, the more Bucky relaxed, until your conversation was interrupted by a familiar and unwelcome voice.

“Sergeant Barnes, Ms. Y/L/N, may I have a word with the two of you? Melissa Renner, Public Magazine.”

The two of you turned to face her and you eyed her coolly, a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Ah, yes, the woman who called my soulmate a brainwashed killer at the conference last Saturday,” you observed dryly. “What can we do for you, Ms. Renner?” You pulled Bucky closer to you, wrapping your arm around his waist protectively, a gesture neither he nor the reporter missed.

“I was merely stating historical facts. I apologize if my phrasing offended you.” She continued on undeterred and turned to Bucky. “Everyone was surprised when the announcement was made that you had found your soulmate. It’s been four days and this is the first time the two of you have been seen out together since then. What’s been happening in the world of the newly paired?”

You could feel Bucky’s tension radiating off of him even as you felt in internally; you suspected he could also feel your anger.

“We’ve been getting to know each other,” he replied, the strain in his voice nearly imperceptible. 

Melissa had her notepad out and was jotting something down in shorthand. “And how would you describe her?”

“She perfect,” he said softly, relaxing slightly at the topic he enjoyed and smiling down at you. “Everything about her is beautiful and perfect. She’s more than I could ever hope for or deserve.”

You caught a glint in the reporter’s eye and held up your hand to stop her as she opened her mouth.

“No, you will not follow that line of questioning.” You turned to look up at Bucky and cupped his cheek in your hand. “We’ve already been over this, babe. You didn’t do anything to not deserve me.”

“So, you consider being a Hydra assassin nothing?”

And there it was, the triumphant sound in her voice that proved she thought she’d just found the best dirt she could on you. You turned to her and her smile faltered when she saw the look in your eyes.

“Who we are should be measured by the choices we make.” Your voice was even and light, but there was an edge to it that no one could miss. “Someone who is constantly being brainwashed, tortured, and programmed does not have a choice. Since his ability to choose was given back to him, Bucky has been the sweetest, most gentle man I’ve ever met. When given a choice, he does not choose to be a killer, which means he is not a killer. If only we all were as careful when given a choice.” You cocked you head and smiled sweetly. “For example: Bayside hotel, room 324. Ring any bells?”

Melissa paled.

“I thought it might.” You grabbed Bucky’s hand again and started to pull him away. “Reporters aren’t the only ones who know how to find dirt, you know. If you want to start a smear campaign you’d better be damn sure it’s worth what it will cost you.”

“Doll,” Bucky asked bewildered as the two of you walked away, “what was that?”

“Please don’t worry about it,” you cautioned. “I told you I’m protective.”

Bucky thought about that interaction long after the two of you arrived back at the tower. He decided that even if you were the kindest woman he’d ever met, your full anger was something he never wanted to see.

\----------

Nat waved the latest issue of Public in your face, a grin stretching across her own.

“Look what I found,” she sing-songed. “Someone made the gossip column. _Winter Soldier calls soulmate Y/N Y/L/N ‘more than [he] could ever hope for.’_ ”

You snatched the magazine from her hand and studied the cover. It was one of the pictures of the two of you the paparazzo had taken on your date; you were taking a bite of your ice cream and he was smiling down at you, wisps of hair sneaking out of his low bun. Flipping to the article, you skimmed through and were pleased to find that Melissa had written a fluff piece on the two of you falling in love, leaving out any mention of Bucky’s past beyond your quote about him being who he chose to be.

“Has Bucky seen this yet?” you asked the smirking assassin.

“I believe Clint bought a hundred copies with the intent to wallpaper Bucky’s room with it, so I’d say he probably has.”

You groaned. “This thing between them, whatever it is – it’s never going to end, is it?”

“Not unless you can figure out something that’ll make Clint too scared to try anything else,” she laughed, “but if Genevieve didn’t do that, I’m not sure what would.”

“I should probably go find Bucky just in case,” you sighed. “Wouldn’t want him to break Clint’s arms or something.”

You found your soulmate sitting on his bed, studying Clint’s completed work. Pages from the magazine were stapled up all over the walls – there were pictures of the two of you eating ice cream, pictures of you coming out of the theater, pictures of you holding hands. There was even a picture of you tucked under Bucky’s arm, snuggling against his chest.

“I guess you’ve seen the article,” you said, sitting next to him.

“Yup,” he said, eyes still scanning the walls. “Do you know who put it all over my room?”

“I’m guessing you already have an idea.”

“It was Clint, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You turned to him. “Are you mad?”

“I’m…” he cocked his head and sighed. “I don’t know what I am. I’m not mad it’s all over my walls, but I don’t know how to react to the article itself. I’m used to articles on me being about the 40s or my time with Hydra. This is something different, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.” He turned to you and took your hands in his. “You, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and while I don’t want to hide that from the world it’s a little weird suddenly seeing people be interested in me for something other than what I did as the Asset.”

You brushed his hair back from his face. “It takes time for opinions to change,” you whispered, “including our opinions of ourselves. You’ll get there. So will everyone else. Just have patience with yourself while it happens.”

Bucky buried his face in your shoulder and clung to you, tears beginning to stream from his eyes.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“I’ve had a lifetime to fall in love with someone I knew was hurting,” you reminded him. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you to be happy and know I love you.”

The two of you sat together for nearly an hour, Bucky’s tears silent soaking your shirt as he cried. Your heart ached for everything this beautiful man had gone through, and you shot a silent prayer to anyone listening that he would start to see himself the way you saw him. That’s when you got the idea.

\----------

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted the soldier as you entered the common room, “do you know if anyone has a camera I could borrow? I wanna do a photoshoot with Bucky this afternoon, but my DSLR finally decided to crap out and the new one won’t be here for at least a week.”

Steve looked up from the book he was reading and shook his head. “I have no idea. Natasha should know, though. She seems to know everything about everyone.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you asked, “where is Nat?”

“Ms. Romanoff is currently in the gym having a training session with Ms. Maximoff,” the AI replied.

“Thanks, Steve,” you called over your shoulder as you headed towards the gym. “And thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you added, feeling weird for ignoring the AI.

“Did I just hear Y/N?” Bucky asked, entering the room from the opposite side.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, “she’s looking for a camera for your photoshoot.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “For my what now?”

“Never mind,” Steve grinned. Having you around was definitely shaking things up in Bucky’s life, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

\----------

Wanda ended up having a decent digital camera you could borrow as long as you promised to take her out with you when your new camera came in and give her some pointers. You spent a few minutes familiarizing yourself with the camera’s layout and settings by taking a few practice shots in the kitchen and were about to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. where Bucky was when the man himself found you.

“Hey doll,” he said softly, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Well hello handsome,” you giggled, “I thought I’d spend it with you if you’re free.”

“Mmm, and might the planned activity have something to do with the photoshoot Steve accidentally mentioned?”

You wiggled around to where you were facing him and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Unless you strongly object, then yes, I’d love to do a photoshoot of you.”

“Why?” he asked, brow furrowed. “I’m not exactly an interesting subject.”

“That’s why.” You stretched up to kiss his nose. “Because I disagree with you. Photos always reveal as much about how the photographer feels about the subject as they do about the subject itself. I want to show you how I see you.”

He pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “If you’re sure, then I guess I’m in.”

You dragged Bucky all over town, and by the end he admitted it had been a fun afternoon. The two of you had started in a craft store before wandering down various streets, stopping and making him pose whenever you found a backdrop you liked.

“So when do I get to see them?” he asked when the two of you finally returned to the tower.

“When I’m done,” you replied. “I still have to go through to pull out the best shots and color-correct them.”

“There’s a lot more to photography than I realized.” He paused. “Wait, I thought you work at a library? Is photography just a hobby?”

You shrugged. “It started as I hobby, but I took a few classes in college and got good enough to do it freelance for a little extra cash. I still do it on occasion, but I enjoy my job so I never really thought about making it a career.”

“Well,” he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got. Tony’s got some new tech for me to test out, but I’ll see you at dinner.”

\----------

You got so wrapped up in your work that you almost forgot dinner. It was only when Bucky knocked on the door to your room that you remembered you hadn’t eaten in over seven hours. Shutting off your laptop, you joined the team for a fun evening of board games and Wanda’s mother’s chicken paprikash recipe.

As was becoming customary, Bucky joined you in your room after dinner and settled into your bed. (“I know they fumigated, but I’ll never be able to sleep in there again. There were so many spiders!”) You left the rest of your photo editing for the morning and curled up with him, asking questions about his childhood until you both were too tired to do anything but cuddle.

The next morning you were both awoken early by Steve knocking on your door. Bucky was needed for a mission, but Steve swore it shouldn’t be more than six hours. You kissed Bucky goodbye and settled in to work on your photos. Maybe if you focused you could have everything ready by the time he got back.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky dragged himself into the shower and let out a soft moan as the hot water hit his skin. So much for six hours – the mission had taken almost twelve from initial takeoff to arriving back home. That was twelve exhausting hours of trying to accomplish the mission without getting hurt so you wouldn’t have yet another scar to add to your collection of proof that being his soulmate meant getting hurt. He’d managed to avoid almost every blow, but there was a bruise along his jawline that he wasn’t looking forward to seeing on your soft skin. The shower was a practical way to avoid you.

He inhaled the steam rising around him and let it out with a sigh. All he wanted to do was protect you, but his job put you at risk in more ways than one. Maybe he should talk to Bruce; Bruce was the only other Avenger who had found his soulmate (apart from Steve finding Peggy in the 40s), and while he didn’t seem like someone who would want to have a long talk about how to protect one’s soulmate while working a dangerous job, Bucky could really use some solid advice.

When he could no longer justify hiding in the shower, Bucky finally turned off the water and got out. Wrapping himself in a towel, he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

 _What am I doing, hiding like a coward? She says she doesn’t blame me for any of her scars. She probably won’t blame me for the bruise either. Yeah, Barnes, maybe if you tell yourself that enough you’ll finally believe it._ He was pulled out of his thoughts by a burst of warmth in his chest and a knock on the bathroom door.

“Bucky?” Your voice was soft as you called to him. “Are you in there? Are you okay?”

He made sure the towel was securely fastened around his waist before cracking the door and peeking out.

“Hey doll. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Bucky, don’t make me call you out on your crap,” you sighed. “Soulmates, remember? I can feel your anxiety. The question was a courtesy.”

He swallowed back the lump that materialized in his throat before noticing something.

“Your jaw…there’s no…”

“It’s there,” you said calmly, “but I figured you wouldn’t want to see it. I’ve gotten pretty good at covering injuries with makeup over the years. It doesn’t hurt unless I press on it, so I’m fine, trust me. You however are not, so get out here and let me hug you before you have a full-blown panic attack.”

“I’m in a towel,” he mumbled, looking down.

“Then you’re covered well enough. I don’t mind looking at that perfect torso of yours.”

His eyes shot to yours and he couldn’t help but smile when you winked. As soon as the bathroom door was all the way open you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest.

“You’re perfect.” He felt your voice vibrating through his body. “You don’t believe that yet, but you will someday. I’ll tell you again and again until you do.” You pulled back and squeezed his hands. “Get some clothes on and meet me in my room.”

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise,” you replied with another wink before ducking out into the hall.

Bucky smiled after you and headed to his closet. He got dressed in record time and was soon knocking on your door.

You opened the door with a flourish. “Welcome to my exhibit on the modern-day James Buchanan Barnes.”

He found himself speechless as he stepped into your room. Photos of him in varying sizes covered the walls. There was the one you’d dragged him to the craft store to take; he’d complained about stuffing his head into a bunch of flowers but you’d gotten him to laugh at how ridiculous everything felt and that was the moment you’d captured. There was the picture he’d wanted in front of the cascading fabrics (the unicorn headband in that one had been his idea). Over there was one you’d taken outside a coffee shop, and he looked so soft with his face buried in his hoodie and his hair wild, arms around his waist because a sudden breeze had given him a chill. Picture after picture showed him leaning against a pole, sitting on a park bench, crouching in front of a brick wall with a backwards cap on – all showing a softness and a light behind his smile and his eyes.

That was how you saw him, Bucky realized, because that is who he was when you were around. You pulled a joy out of him that he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. When he was with you he wasn’t Steve’s friend, or the Winter Soldier, or even an Avenger; when he was with you he was just Bucky, and that’s all he really wanted to be.

“Do you see it?” you asked softly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “Do you see how I see you?”

“I… I think so,” he choked out. “I see who I am when I’m with you, because when I’m with you I don’t have to be anyone but me.”

The two of you spent the hours before bed studying each photo you had hung on your walls. You would point out how soft his eyes were, or how his hair framed his jawline. He would tell you what he’d been thinking about when the photo was taken, whether it was something you were saying behind the camera or just delight at spending time with you.

_I can live with this. I can live with being this person when she’s around._

\----------

“You sure you want to do this?” you asked Bucky as the two of you flipped through the photos you had loaded onto your laptop and promptly deleted from Wanda’s camera.

He nodded. “I think it’ll really get the point across.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” You studied the current photo. “Which picture do you want to use? He might decide to release it online or something as his payback.”

“I thought about that,” he assured you. “Can you do more touch-ups than just lighting?”

“Of course. What did you have in mind?”

Bucky grinned. “Edit out all my scars and add enough effects it looks like it could be a piece of fan art. He’ll know it’s real, but if he decides to release it no one will know it’s a literal photo of me.”

“Oh, you are brilliant,” you laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “So which one are we using?”

“That one,” he said, pointing at the thumbnail.

“Perfect. I’ll have it ready tomorrow.”

\----------

“You didn’t.”

You looked up at Nat, who wore a shocked expression.

“I didn’t what?”

She flopped down on the couch next to you. “Tell me you didn’t put that poster on Clint’s ceiling.”

“It was Bucky’s idea,” you shrugged. “I just used the camera and got it printed.”

Natasha shook her head in disbelief. “Where did you even find a place that would print a poster that big with that kind of picture on it?”

“Technically it wasn’t explicit.”

“I give up!” Clint stormed into the common room and stood in front of you with his arms crossed. “Get that horrifying thing off my ceiling and I will leave your precious soulmate alone forever, no more practical jokes. That thing will be burned into my nightmares for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t come to me,” you insisted, hands up. “That one was Bucky’s idea. You wanna make a deal, make it with him.”

He shot you a suspicious look before going off in search of your soulmate.

“What did you put on his ceiling?” Steve asked, having come in behind Clint.

A smile worked its way across your face. “Bucky had me do a boudoir photoshoot of him and make one of the pictures into a poster.”

Steve froze. “I’m not sure if I’m sorry I asked or immensely amused.”

“There you are!” Tony declared, coming in. “I saw the photo on Barton’s ceiling, and I’ve gotta say, Y/N, you’ve got talent. I was wondering if you’d do a similar shoot for me. Not of me,” he rushed to assure you when he saw your face, “Of Pepper. The pictures would just be for me.”

“Oh, good,” you relaxed. “Yeah, I could do that if she wants. It would have to be around my work schedule unless she has time this weekend.”

“I’ll let her schedule it. Thanks, Y/N!” Tony called the last sentence over his shoulder, already off to whatever project he currently had in the works.

Bruce came in from the other direction and stopped when he saw you. “Really, Y/N?”

“It was Bucky’s idea!” you repeated, throwing your hands in the air.

That conversation repeated with each Avenger. Apparently Clint had sent it in a group text and captioned it, “If I have to be scarred for life, so do you.” You weren’t sure what the big deal was; you thought the picture was really sexy. Which, you supposed when you thought about it, was probably why it was a big deal.

Bucky spent the rest of the week with a smirk on his face and an extra swagger in his step.

\----------

No. You froze in horror at the sight that greeted you. Everything had been going so well. Your first few weeks back at work were great; then this had to happen. You could have sworn you had another month’s worth of birth control, but the spot where you kept it was empty and now you were out.

With a groan, you reached for your phone and made a call to your doctor’s office to schedule an appointment. When you were 20 you’d had an incident while on your period, and that had been it for you; the cramps were already debilitating and you weren’t about to risk having to deal with them and a bullet wound at the same time ever again. You’d been taking birth control – without periods – since, but being out of pills meant you were about to have one again. This would be your first period in years, and it was not going to be pretty. Bucky wouldn’t even be here to make it better, since he was on a mission with Steve.

Man, your week was about to suck.

\----------

“Steve, we have to get back faster,” Bucky gasped as he stumbled toward the front of the jet, clutching his stomach. “Y/N…something’s wrong. There’s no wound that I can see, so maybe it’s poison. I need to be back right now!”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where is Y/N?” Steve immediately asked.

“Ms. Y/L/N appears to be curled up in her bed crying, wearing one of Mr. Barnes’s hoodies and wrapped around his pillow.” The AI pulled up the footage from your room and Bucky felt his heart shatter.

“Hold on, Buck,” Steve said, gritting his teeth and pushing the quinjet’s throttle to as fast as he could take it. “The flight back is going to be a little rough.”

\----------

Your ice cream craving was finally strong enough that you dragged yourself out of your bed-bound pity party and down to the kitchen. At least the first two days of your cycle were on the weekend; while it sucked to lose a weekend to cramps, it was better than having to soldier through them at work.

You pulled your mostly-full pint of cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer (Bucky had made sure there was always some around since he found out it was your favorite) and decided to watch The Notebook. If your body wanted to cry, you’d give it a reason to.

Tears were pouring down your face and the end credits had begun rolling when Bucky scared you by bursting in, Steve on his heels.

“Doll, oh gosh, what’s going on? Who did this to you? What can I do?”

You blinked up at him through the tears. “No one did anything to me. I just felt sad and thought the movie would help me cry it out.”

Realization hit you when Bucky doubled over as another cramp struck.

“Let me see, doll. Did I miss something when I looked myself over?” He tried to pull up your shirt but you swatted his hands away.

“Bucky, calm down! It’s just my period! I ran out of birth control and it’s been a while since I last had one so it’s really bad is all.”

Steve sank into a nearby chair. “Of course. I should have thought of that. It’s just that you’ve known each other for over a month, and this is the first time it’s happened even since he last came out of cryo…”

“I normally skip the sugar pill week for my pills,” you confessed. “My periods have always been rough, and I just didn’t want to deal with them alongside what seemed like random injuries.”

Bucky looked between the two of you. “How come Steve knows what’s going on and I don’t, and how,” he collapsed by your feet as another wave of cramps hit your bodies, “the hell are you not more freaked out by this much pain?”

“I can’t speak for Steve, but PMS and period cramps are just part of my life. Yeah, they suck, which is why I’m usually on birth control, but I have to live with them.” You stroked your hand through his hair as he rested his head on your knees. “I have an appointment with my doctor next week so I can renew my prescription. Then it’ll be a while before you have to worry about this again.”

“My mom sat me down when Peggy started her cycle,” Steve admitted. “She didn’t tell me much, not how it worked or anything, but she did explain that it would happen every month once it became regular and some stuff I could do to make it hurt a little less. I guess your mom never had that talk with you, since…”

“Since I never showed signs of having a soulmate,” Bucky finished. He looked up at you. “How do you make it hurt less?”

“Well,” you said, “exercise is supposed to help, but it’s the last thing I feel like doing. I usually take more Advil than I should and curl up with my electric blanket. Heat helps.”

“Right then.” Bucky stood and scooped you up in his arms, blanket and all. “Y/N and I will be in her bed snuggling. We’ll be out when we need food.” He looked at you. “There’s Advil in your room, right?”

You nodded.

“Right. Don’t call us. We’ll call you.” 

With that, he whisked you off to your room. The two of you did in fact spend the rest of the day snuggled together under your electric blanket, and the combined Advil you and he had taken actually did a pretty good job of relieving your cramps.

It was after seven that evening when the two of you finally emerged in search of food. Trailing your blanket capes behind you, you headed straight for the kitchen and found Sam and Clint hanging out eating leftover pizza.

“Well, hello, blanket burritos,” Sam chuckled as the two of you rounded the corner. “Long time, no see.”

Bucky ignored them both and headed straight for the fridge.

“Okay, doll, what are we supposed to eat?”

“Technically, healthy stuff,” you groaned, “but that pizza looks so good.”

“Oh no, we’re sticking with what’ll help. What do we need to avoid?”

You sighed. Bucky was not letting you get away with anything. “Anything high in fat content or salt.”

He gave you a side-eye. “Don’t touch the pizza.”

Clint grinned at you and waved his half-eaten slice. “By the time you have your next period, Bucky’s gonna know everything there is to know about them and he’ll have a full menu worked up for you leading up to and through the whole thing.”

“Damn right I will,” Bucky mumbled, head still in the fridge. “We eat like crap around here. Isn’t there one fresh vegetable?” Slamming the door shut, he turned to you. “Doll, I hate to say this because I know we’d both love to spend the rest of the evening in bed, but we need to go shopping.”

“Oh no,” you said, “I am not leaving this tower. I am staying here in my pajamas even if that means pizza and feeling like crap afterwards.”

“It won’t just be you who feels like crap, though,” he pointed out.

Sam cocked an eyebrow at Clint. “Is he seriously arguing with a woman on her period?”

“It was nice knowing you, man,” Clint laughed. “Can I have your room once you’re dead?”

Bucky shot a quick glare at the two of them before pulling you into a hug and whispering in your ear.

“Look, doll, we both feel like crap right now, but I really do want to help you feel better, not just myself. Why don’t we go change into something comfortable but more presentable and pick up a few things? I’ll cook us some dinner and we can make a date out of it. I’ll even let you get whatever you want for dessert, healthy or not.”

“Okay,” you agreed, sighing into his chest. “I need more Advil first, though.”

“You and me both, doll,” he grinned.

Clint stared at the two of you and gripped Sam’s shoulder. “Did…did he just win an argument with a woman on her period?”

“Screw you, Barton.” Your glare had him hiding behind Sam. “I’m a rational adult.”

“Of course you are, Y/N,” Sam quickly assured you. “Clint, let’s go.” The two of them grabbed their pizza and bolted from the room.

“Now,” Bucky said, offering you his arm, “let us prepare for our evening, m’lady.”

“Why, thank you, good sir,” you replied with a smile. “That would be lovely.”


	7. Bucky Cries, Bucky Moves, and Clint Does Stupid Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotev unlocked a bonus chapter so this one's the longest you've gotten so far.

Bucky let you wear a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies, and being surrounded by his scent was making your grocery outing significantly more bearable. A quick google search on “food to eat while on your period” later, he was dragging you through the aisles of the nearest Trader Joe’s.

“And that should do it,” he said, dumping the last item his basket and grabbing your hand again. “Now you just have to pick dessert, and we can go home.”

You reached out to a nearby shelf and grabbed down a bag of dark chocolate truffles. He nodded at your choice, and the two of you headed for the checkout.

“Did you find everything all right?” the young cashier – her nametag identified her as Amy – automatically asked before looking up and gasping. “Ohmigosh, it’s you! You’re Bucky! You’re my little brother’s favorite Avenger!” She turned to you. “And you’re Y/N! Ohmigosh, you’re even prettier in person! I love your arm!”

Despite how crappy you were feeling, or maybe because of it, a blush crept across your face. “Thank you,” you replied shyly.

“This is probably really forward of me, and please don’t be mad, but…could I maybe get a picture with you two?”

Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. “Are you up for that, doll?” he asked quietly. You nodded and he turned to the girl. “Absolutely.”

Her squeal of excitement drew a laugh from you both as she called a coworker over and passed them her phone. Moments later, the picture had been taken and Amy was staring at it wide-eyed while her coworker affectionately rolled his eyes and actually checked the two of you out.

“James – my brother’s name is James, too – he’s gonna be so jealous,” she babbled. “He lost his leg in a motorbike accident almost a year ago and had a really rough recovery, tried to kill himself at one point. When you came back, he told me he knew that if you could survive what you went through, he could figure out how to get on with life too. Put your official Avenger picture up on the wall so he could look at it on his bad days; said it helps him remember he’ll be okay.”

Glancing at Bucky, you could see him trying to hold back tears.

“Do you have maybe a pen and some paper I could write on really quickly?” he choked out.

Amy gave him a questioning look but found a notepad and pen behind the till. You weren’t trying to look, but if you were being honest you weren’t exactly trying not to look either, so you ended up seeing the full message Bucky wrote.

_James, I’m really proud of you for how far you’ve come. I know it’s hard, but you’re going to make it. If you ever need anything – and I mean anything – get in touch with reception at Avengers Tower and they can get you in touch me with. – Bucky_

He quickly folded the note in quarters and passed it to Amy. “Could you make sure your brother gets this, please?”

Her eyes grew wide and she nodded. “Yes! It’ll make his day! Thank you.”

\----------

Bucky was quiet on the ride home. When you got back to the tower, he silently set about making dinner for the two of you. You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“What’s going through your mind, Buck? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

He paused what he was doing and leaned his weight against the counter, his head falling forward.

“I matter,” he whispered. “I help him. I’ve never even met him, and he knows what I’ve done, but just by being me I help him.” He drew a shaky breath and continued, slightly louder, “I know I matter to you; I’m your soulmate, of course I do. And I matter to Steve because I’m his friend. But James has never met me, but somehow I matter to him anyway, and I’ve never had that before.”

“You matter to me for a lot more reasons than just being my soulmate,” you replied, running one of your hands up and down his side, “and I bet you matter to a whole lot more people than you realize. Just because some people can’t see the truth about you doesn’t mean no one can. You make a difference for a lot of people.”

“You have to say that,” he mumbled. “You’re my soulmate.”

“Hey.” You spun him around to face you and cupped his cheek. “If you have any doubts about how I feel, we need to go take another look at the Bucky exhibit I’ve got going on in my room. You are breathtakingly strong, James Buchanan Barnes. You’re still standing and trying to move forward, even when it’s hard, and James couldn’t have found a better source of inspiration.”

Bucky cried then, sobs wracking his body and tears pouring down his cheeks as he buried his face in your shoulder. You held him as he clung to you, running your hands along his back and through his hair, trying to comfort him.

“The salmon is going to dry out,” he finally said, starting to pull back.

“I hope you know you’re more important than the salmon,” you teased.

He gave you an unconvincing look of disproval, shaking his head. “Come on, we’re both hungry. Let’s eat.”

\----------

“You know, when you said you couldn’t use the shower because there was a spider in the tub, I was expecting maybe a decent-sized wolf spider, not,” you straightened and motioned to the tiny spot now working its way up your flesh hand, “this.”

“But what if it’s poisonous?” your soulmate whined, standing as far away from you and the spider as he could.

You shook your head in exasperation. “Bucky, it’s not even a real spider. It’s a spider mite. It probably came in through the window screen.”

His eyes grew wide in horror and he lunged to close the window by your bed.

“We can never open the window again.”

A laugh escaped before you could catch it, causing Bucky to shoot you a glare.

“Now my soulmate is mocking me for a perfectly logical phobia.”

“I wish I could say I’m sorry,” you said as you shook your head, “but you literally freaked out over a tiny red dot. I think you need therapy.”

“I could have told you that,” he mumbled. “There were so many spiders.”

“You know, Buck…” you wrapped your arms around his waist and locked eyes with him, “maybe it’s time we made this living together thing a bit more solid. You already spend every night in my room, and you spend as little time as possible in yours since the spider incident. Why not permanently move in with me? Or we could ask Tony for a different room if you’d rather we move into one that’s ours instead of one that was mine.” He didn’t reply for a few moments, so you added, “If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I don’t want to pressure you. Whatever you’re comfortable with is okay with me.”

Bucky sighed and rested his forehead against yours. “I don’t know how to put this… It’s not that I don’t want to, really doll, there’s nothing I want more than to be as close to you as possible as much as I can. I just…there are assumptions that have been made about me. People always assume because I dated a lot in the 40s that I…well…that I was with a lot of women, but they weren’t my soulmate, so I never…and I guess I’m scared I won’t be good enough for you.”

“You were my first kiss,” you admitted. “I’m in the same boat you are, Bucky. We can wait until you’re ready. There’s a lot more to intimacy and love than just sex, and I think we’re already proving that. The offer still stands for you to move in whenever you’re ready.”

“I think I’d like that,” he whispered.

You stretched up and kissed him softly. “Do you want to move into my room or ask Tony if we can have our own new place?”

“I like your room. It feels like home because you’re here.”

“Then,” you smiled up at Bucky, your heart swelling, “welcome home, Sergeant.” 

\----------

“You sure you’re okay with this, doll?”

You looked up at Bucky where he was rearranging a bookshelf to fit both your books and his.

“It’s our space now, Buck, not just mine. If there isn’t enough room we can get rid of some stuff or get a bigger shelf, but my stuff doesn’t get priority over yours.”

“You have nicer stuff, though,” he said, taking a moment to study his work. “I think Tony likes you more than me. Your room is bigger and you’ve got nicer furniture.”

“Mm, and how much stuff did you have when you first moved in compared to me?”

“Point taken,” he conceded. “I wouldn’t blame him for liking you more, though. I like you more. Plus I killed his parents.”

You stilled. “I didn’t realize that.”

Bucky nodded and joined you on the floor. “They were one of the first things I remembered when my memory started coming back. I told him as soon as I knew. He was really angry, didn’t talk to me for a while until he’d tracked down the man who’d ordered the hit on them. Then the two of us went out together and brought the guy in. Our relationship started to get better after that, and I guess we’re friends now. He was even all for me joining the team when it became official.”

“It’s like I told you,” you said as you reached over and tucked his hair behind his ear, “sometimes opinions take time to change. Same for emotions. He knows it wasn’t your choice to kill them; it just took a little time for his emotions to catch up to his knowledge.”

“How do you not hate me?” Light glistened off the tears pooling in Bucky’s eyes. “We’re just casually talking about people I’ve killed. Why haven’t you run from me yet?”

You took his face in your hands and pulled him to you, placing a kiss on his forehead. “We’re talking about people you wish you hadn’t killed; there’s a difference. Your reaction to what HYDRA made you do is why I know that’s not you. I mean,” you leaned back, “even when they were controlling you, you didn’t kill anyone for fun, just for the mission. They could suppress your morality and how kind you are, but they couldn’t make you a mindless killer because that’s just not what you are.”

Bucky’s reply was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Tony’s face peeking in.

“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt, but there’s something downstairs you’re gonna want to see.”

\----------

As important as that conversation had been, this was definitely worth the interruption.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the gym was Sam literally rolling on the floor, laughing. The second thing you noticed was Natasha looking up with a mildly amused expression. The third thing, which if asked you would admit should probably have been the first, was Clint hanging upside-down by one leg from a vent opening in the high-vaulted ceiling, a snare around his left ankle.

“So…” Steve said, arriving a few moments after you and Bucky. “I’m guessing there’s a story here.”

“Come on, Nat, let me down!” Clint pled.

“Tweety flew too close to the sun,” Sam gasped out. “Nat burned him good.”

Nat glanced calmly at Steve before looking back up at Clint. “He replaced my almond butter with peanut butter. I don’t like peanut butter.”

“It was a prank! A harmless prank! This is overkill.” Clint’s momentum from his thrashing had him spinning in slow circles and he was starting to look sick.

Bucky didn’t even try to contain his laughter. “You should know better than to prank Nat. That’s just asking for it.”

“She didn’t have to booby trap the vents,” he grumbled. “Seriously, overkill.”

It was almost twenty minutes before Clint finally had his feet on the ground again. He looked a little green around the gills, but otherwise seemed no worse for wear despite his claims that his leg could have been dislocated.

“Why Nat?” you asked him as you helped him to the kitchen and got him an ice pack for his hip. Everyone else had dispersed back to what they were doing and as much as he’d kinda earned it, you felt bad for the archer.

Clint sighed and shook his head. “In retrospect, I have no idea. I think I was counting on the fact we’re friends tempering her response.”

You thought for a moment. “Why not Steve or Sam? They seem like they’d be better prank candidates.” 

“Yes,” Clint conceded, “but Steve seems like he’d either get really flustered or hit me back with something monstrous, and I’m not sure I want to take that risk, particularly after Nat.”

“And Sam?”

“Pranking him would turn into a war that would continually escalate until one of us had to cave in submission.”

“Aw, come on,” you teased, “afraid you can’t take him?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Part of me thinks you’re egging me on because you want to see what disasters would happen. The rest of me is falling for it.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, patting him on the shoulder, “if you get in over your head you can always ask for help from an expert.”

“I’d prank you,” he laughed, “but I know for sure that even though you’d take it well, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

You grinned. “And that’s why you prank Sam. Or Steve. Or both, if you really want some fun.”

“Now there’s an idea.” Clint’s eyes grew wide. “I need to brainstorm.”

“You do you, boo,” you joked, hopping off the kitchen stool and heading for your room. “Just keep Bucky and me out of the splash zone.”

You left the archer deep in thought. Whatever idea you’d given him, you were okay not knowing the details. Plausible deniability was probably about to become your best friend.

\----------

“I can’t believe you’re at IKEA. You do realize I could have something custom-made that would match your room’s décor?”

You shifted the phone to your left hand and ran a curtain through your right, analyzing the texture of the fabric. “Tony, going to IKEA is practically a rite of passage for couples. Don’t deny us this experience. It’s a necessary part of learning how to love each other while hating each other.”

Tony sighed in your ear. “It physically pains me, but fine. Have your little IKEA outing. Buy a shelf or whatever it is you need. Yell at each other while trying to assemble it.”

“Thank you, Tony,” you teased.

“Yeah, yeah.”

You laughed as the billionaire hung up. Tony may not approve, but he also couldn’t see how much Bucky was currently enjoying himself.

“Y/N, Y/N, look look look!” your soulmate squealed from behind a wall. You poked your head into the children’s bedroom show area and he pointed to the duvet cover. “The blanket has _robots_ on it!” He scooped up a throw pillow. “ _And this is so fluffy!_ ”

Without drawing attention to it, you pulled out your phone and began recording a video. By the time the trip was over, you had a large number of clips with Bucky gushing over this or that. (“If we ever get a pet, we are buying them this tiny couch. I swear it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen since I last looked at you.”) The two of you bought way more than you needed because Bucky fell in love with everything that could remotely be considered practical, but you did end up with a couple more shelves so you figured you could probably find space to store it all. You wouldn’t have traded this afternoon for anything.

\----------

“Hey, Tin Man,” Sam called out as he joined you, Bucky, and Steve in the kitchen, “you’re trending on YouTube.”

“On what?” Bucky asked, mumbling around his mouthful of food.

“YouTube. It’s a video sharing site. Someone with the username ‘thehappiestlibrarian’ uploaded a video two hours ago titled ‘Winter Soldier Discovers IKEA’ and it’s already got over a million views. It’s literally twenty minutes of you saying stupid and cutesy stuff while wandering around the store.”

Bucky gave you a look that had you smiling into your mug. “I wonder who that could have been.”

“I have no idea,” you deadpanned, “but they must be incredibly stealthy to take that much video without you noticing. They probably had more than an hour’s worth of material but just posted the highlights.”

Steve’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as Bucky shook his head in exasperation. “Really, doll, why? What was the point?”

“The point,” you informed him, “was for everyone to see how cute you are. I thought it might help anyone on the fence about you realize you’re basically a teddy bear.”

He groaned. “My image will never recover.”

“Good,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around him. “I like my image of you better.”

Steve and Sam were too busy watching the video on Sam’s phone and laughing to catch the tiny “Thank you” Bucky whispered in your ear.

\----------

“I’m gonna break his bow. I’m gonna find that archer and I’m gonna break his bow and then I’m gonna break both his legs for good measure.”

“I mean, you could do that,” you said as you watched Sam pace around the common room, “or you could be a little more creative in your revenge. What did he do?”

“He filled my room to mattress-height with balloons while I was asleep.”

You shrugged. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“They were water balloons. Easily pop-able ones. I’ve got five fans going to help the rug dry out.”

“Oh, ouch. Still, there’s gotta be a less violent response.”

Sam paused his pacing to stand in front of you. “Any suggestions, oh queen of all pranksters?”

“Give me a couple hours to think about it and I’ll let you know. If I don’t have anything by then, you can go with your plan.” You stood and crushed your now-empty soda can into an aluminum ball as you made your way towards the kitchen, rolling it around in your hands to smooth it out.

“I forget sometimes that you’re as strong as Bucky and me.”

You looked at the blond as you tossed the ball into the trash. “If only Bucky could remember that. Maybe he’d stop freaking out about me getting hurt every time he does.”

Steve smiled at you from where he was pouring his coffee refill and laughed. “Good luck with that ever happening. He’s always been the protective type, but I’ve never seen it come out more strongly than when he’s trying to take care of you.”

“Injuries go both ways, though. He’s got scars from me, too.”

“I do?”

You turned to find Bucky standing near the entrance to the kitchen, frozen and wide-eyed.

“Of course you didn’t know,” you suddenly realized, going to him and rubbed your hand up and down his arm. “I should have figured you didn’t. You were frozen so much of the time and you have so many scars already; of course you couldn’t tell the difference.” Taking him by the hand, you gently tugged him along behind you. “Come on. Let me show you.”

\----------

The two of you sat crisscross on your bed, facing each other. You had both stripped down to your underwear and Bucky’s eyes were roaming your scars.

“Okay,” you said, “I show you mine, you show me yours. Non-battle-related scars only. We’ll see who is responsible for more.” You pointed to a white line across the top of your right knee. Bucky found the same mark on his. “Eighth birthday. My dad got me a bike and I tried to jump it off a ramp. Totally missed the landing and slashed my knee open on the back of the neighbor’s flatbed pickup. I was the coolest kid on the block for two weeks after.”

He grinned and pointed to a small scar along his hairline. “Fifteen. Got my head slammed into a trash can while trying to get Steve out of a fight he picked with a group of five jerks who were harassing this girl he liked.”

“Twelve.” You pointed to your right elbow where a vaguely circular mark resided. “I was babysitting my cousin. She was a brat. Bit me because I didn’t want to play Barbies with her.”

“Seventeen.” His ribcage, left side. Long, vertical scar. “Another fight, this one because someone had called Steve a sissy. Got him out of there, but got thrown into a pile of bricks. The corner of one of them pulled my shirt up and left a mark.”

“Were all of your pre-war scars Steve’s fault?” you asked, laughing.

He laughed too. “Mostly, yeah, but not all. It’s your turn.”

“Bottom of my left foot. Stepped on a rusty nail and had to get a tetanus shot because mine was expired. I couldn’t put my weight on it for a couple of hours, but of course we heal pretty quickly, so it wasn’t too long.”

“Right shoulder. Tripped and fell down the stairs. A sharp rock gave me a decent gash.”

“Under my chin. Collided with my cousin’s head while she was wearing butterfly clips. That was another instance of her being a brat while I was stuck babysitting.”

Bucky paused, searching his body for another scar that wasn’t related to the war or his time as the Winter Soldier. The only thing he found was a small mark on his right palm.

“I don’t remember how I got this one,” he admitted, showing it to you.

You smiled at the memory. “That was me. I was ten; found a stray kitten on the way home from school and tried to bring it home. It scratched me a lot when I first picked it up, but that was the deepest and the only one that scarred.”

He studied the white line, a small smile creeping over his face. “Well, what do you know. I didn’t realize so many of my scars have good memories attached to them.”

“Some neutral memories, too, I hope,” you said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the topography around your left arm changed a bit when I got mine.”

“I noticed,” he admitted, “but I’ve always tried to ignore those scars. They’re not exactly something I’m proud of.”

You pulled him closer, into a hug. “Every scar you have, good memories or bad, means you survived something. Every scar was just part of the path that led us together.”

He scooped you up and pulled you into his lap, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s nice knowing I have scars from you. It makes this whole thing seem more real somehow. Looking at my scars on you, I know you’re my soulmate, but looking at your scars on me… I’m yours. I’m as much yours as you are mine, and I can believe that because the proof is right there.”

“I’ll always be yours,” you said, burying your face in his neck, “and you’ll always be mine. I’m never letting you go, James Buchanan Barnes, and don’t you forget it.”

“Never, doll,” he whispered. “I’ll never let you go either.”

\----------

“How much money did you spend on this?”

You finished situating the next cup and glanced over at Sam. “You think Clint didn’t spend money on those water balloons?”

“Water balloons are not as expensive as hundreds of glasses,” Sam pointed out, “even if you did just clean out a few thrift stores.”

You shrugged. “I have no living expenses anymore. This is nothing.”

“Nothing. The woman comes up with the mother of all ‘equivalent pranks,’ and she calls it nothing.”

“That’s the key with prank war retaliations,” you grinned. “Make the prank similar enough that they know exactly why they’re being pranked, but make them even more annoying to deal with.”

"Like Genevieve?"

"Exactly like Genevieve."

Sam surveyed the work you two had put in during the last hour. “If the time this is taking to set up is any indication, it’s definitely going to be annoying for him to deal with. We’re not even halfway done.”

It took another two hours, but the you both managed to finish your work before Clint made it back from his mission with Bucky and Steve. Every flat, hard surface in his room that wasn’t otherwise occupied was now covered with full upside-down water glasses – and he had a hardwood floor. There were glasses under his bed. There were glasses along the edges of his bookshelves. You’d even put glasses along various surfaces in his bathroom, although that would be less of a pain to clean up than the army of mismatched thrift store finds that marched along his floor.

You stood in the doorway and admired your handiwork. “That ought to do it. Remember, I had nothing to do with this.”

“Suit yourself,” Sam snorted, shaking his head. “You put all this time and money into helping me get prank revenge, and you don’t want any credit. He’d be too scared to retaliate on you anyway, you know.”

“I know,” you smiled, “but I’d still like to appear neutral.”

“Well, thanks for the help. I’m gonna go for a run. Care to join me?”

“Sure,” you said, stretching your back. “After all that time hunched over, I could use some movement to loosen me up. Just let me get changed really quickly.”

“Same. Meet you downstairs in fifteen,” Sam called over his shoulder, already on his way to his room.

You smiled to yourself as you got ready for your run. This prank war was going to be fun.


	8. Flowers and Pranks and Mini Golf, Oh My!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed posting last week so I'm combining the chapters into one huge chapter.
> 
> Also, fic is now on hiatus until Dec. 5. I'll be doing short one-shots each day in November instead.

Bucky ran his fingers over your fingertips, studying the faint pink scars there and on his. The two of you were lying in bed, on top of your blankets, facing each other, going through your new nightly routine. You would each pick a scar and tell the other how it happened. After all, you figured, you might as well know where all your scars came from.

“I was picking flowers with some friends,” you said, a smile lighting your face. “We found a patch in an abandoned lot and wanted to bring them home to our moms. I tried to grab too many at once and gave myself a bunch of little cuts.”

“What type of flowers?” Bucky asked, placing a light kiss on the marks.

“Daisies. I somehow still love daisies.”

He looked at you, eyes soft and full of love. “That’s my new favorite scar we have.”

“You say that each time we do this,” you teased.

“Mm,” he hummed, leaning in to press a kiss to your nose. “That’s because each time I learn a new thing about you that makes you even more beautiful.”

A deep blush spread across your cheeks. “You turn,” you mumbled.

Bucky kept your right hand in his metal one, moving his free hand down to brush a group of scars on your knee. “I dislocated my knee during a post-mission escape in ’82 while jumping off a roof. These are from the reconstruction they had to do so I could walk again.”

“You…” you blinked at him, “you jumped off a roof. Of course you jumped off a roof. And you claim Steve does stupid things.”

“He does!” Bucky protested. “It wasn’t a high roof, just one story, and I’ve done that a hundred times with no problem. He jumps through windows higher than any human should expect to survive and out of planes without parachutes!”

“Sure, tough guy,” you giggled. “Just don’t think I’m going to let you forget it.”

He grumbled a bit as the two of you snuggled under your blankets, but stopped when you rested your head on his chest.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you sighed, letting your exhaustion take over and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

\----------

“So,” Clint said, sitting across from you as you ate your breakfast, “I have an idea for my retaliation against Sam, but I was wondering if you could help me set it up? I know you wanted to stay out of it but it’ll take forever if I have to do it by myself, and he’ll be out with Steve and Bucky on a mission today.”

“Gee, I don’t know,” you hemmed, suppressing a grin. “If he found out I was involved, he might retaliate.”

“I mean, you could obviously take him if he tried anything, but I doubt he would. No one in their right mind would take you on.”

You pretended to think about it for a few moments before nodded. “Okay, but only if he never finds out. You can’t tell him.”

“Deal!” Clint said, squealing in excitement. “Meet me in Sam’s room after the jet takes off. I’ll bring everything we need.”

The archer dashed off in one direction while your soulmate entered from the other.

“What was that about?” Bucky asked, sitting next to you and reaching for the cereal.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Sam.”

He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “I promise to tell Bird Brain nothing.”

“Clint asked me with help setting up his retaliation prank against Sam.”

“Didn’t you help set up Sam’s prank against Clint?”

“Help?” you scoffed. “I came up with it. Sam has no imagination when it comes to pranks, which is actually pretty surprising.”

Bucky pointed his spoon at you before digging in. “I hope you know how dangerous a game you’re playing.”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” you laughed, “and I’m loving every second of it.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Just leave me out of it.”

“Of course, babe,” you assured him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “We won’t even start until the three of you have taken off.”

\----------

“Okay,” Clint said, rubbing his hands together as you joined him outside Sam’s room, “let’s get started.”

You surveyed the large pile of full plastic bags at his feet and the harness in his hands. “Let’s get started with what, exactly?”

He picked up a bag and showed you the contents. “We’re covering his walls and ceiling with Hawkeye action figures!”

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out as you studied the tiny figures. They were the size of the green army men you had played with as a kid, and each one was Clint in a different pose right before taking a shot.

“Where did you get these?”

“The internet is a magical place,” he grinned. “I figured I’d take the ceiling and you could start on the walls?”

“Sure.” You studied the surface available and the massive number of figures Clint had bought. “How close together are we positioning these and how much time do we have?”

“About an inch apart so he can clearly see what they are, and I think we have six hours. If it looks like it’s gonna take too long I’ll try to talk Nat into helping, but I think we can do it. I got the quick-dry superglue.”

Gluing tiny Hawkeyes to the walls took significantly less skill and focus than placing a bunch of upside-down water glasses. You would have gotten bored were it not for Clint’s banter. As it was, the task progressed more quickly than you had anticipated, leaving you with two extra hours at the end. When the men got back from their mission, you were in the common room with Clint and Natasha, a Three Stooges comedy nearing its end on the TV.

“Mm,” Bucky hummed, leaning in to kiss you on the forehead before scooping you up and settling into your seat with you in his lap, “I could get used to homecomings like this.”

“Go ahead,” you grinned, kissing him back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, I am,” Sam announced, making his way through the room. “I need a shower.”

Once he was out of the room, you and Clint made eye contact, stifling your laughter.

“What did you two do?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” you insisted, “I just know what was done.”

A long scream came from the direction of Sam’s room. In a few minutes, the man himself reappeared.

“I hope you know,” he said, pointing a finger at Clint, “that that’s going to give me nightmares for weeks.”

“That seems a little extreme,” Clint laughed, “considering the sort of stuff we face on missions.”

“Your face is worse than all of that,” Sam muttered. “But I really do need a shower. At least my bathroom is clean.”

Nat cocked an eyebrow at Clint. “You didn’t think to put any in his bathroom?”

“Of course I did,” Clint grinned. “It’s right at eye level in his shower. He’ll find it soon enough.”

When he did, the tower was filled with the sound of his shrieking.

\----------

“Bucky, darling,” you cooed, rubbing your hand up and down your sleep soulmate’s back.

“Mm,” he hummed, snuggling his face harder against you. “Yes, doll?”

“We need to get up now.”

After Clint and Natasha had left, you and the two super soldiers put on Moana. Steve settled into an oversized armchair, while you had stretched out on the couch, Bucky lying on top of you. The movie had ended twenty minutes ago and Steve had left to get ready for bed, but so far Bucky showed no signs of being willing to move.

“No,” he grumbled, “you’re too comfy. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We need to get ready for bed. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t wanna,” he whined. “Wanna stay here with you.”

You carded your fingers through his hair. “You can cuddle up with me again once we get in bed.”

“Or,” he countered, “I could stay cuddled up with you right here.”

“Do you have any idea how much pain our necks will be in tomorrow if you make me sleep here?”

Bucky sighed. “Fine.” In one quick motion he stood and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards your room. “But I’m counting on lots of snuggles to make up for having to move.”

“Of course, darling,” you said, pressing a kiss to his jaw and giggling at the growl it elicited. “I’ll give you all the cuddles you want.”

When he kicked open the door to your room, you gasped at the sight that awaited you. Dozens of vases filled with all different types of daisies were placed around the room, with the biggest bouquet on your nightstand.

“Bucky,” you whispered, “they’re beautiful. When did you…?”

“I had them delivered this evening. Steve set them up after the movie. I had to give him time to get in and out before we came up.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, really kissed him. His mouth melted against yours as you poured your love and thanks into the moment.

“Thank you,” you said when the two of you finally broke apart. “I love them.”

“You’re welcome, doll. And I love you, too.”

\----------

“The fabric, printer, and ink are on their way, but in the mean time I thought we could pick out the picture we wanted to use.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam agreed, settling into the seat next to you. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” you said, pulling up the web browser on your laptop, “this was my favorite of all the options I found.” You opened the tab for WeHeartIt.com and showed him a picture that had been edited so he was holding a cupid’s bow and wearing a halo, emoji hearts dancing through the air around him.

He pulled back, visibly repulsed. “Aw, hell, no! I hate that that even exists; I am not handing it to Clint for joke fodder.”

“Okay,” you laughed, “next option, then. This one’s a gif, but I can pull a still from it. I was thinking specifically the part where your tongue is sticking out.”

“Where do people even get these?” He shook his head. “Next option.”

“They make them from video footage. Here’s another gif. I was thinking a still from the part where you look repulsed, considering where this is going?”

Sam gave you a nod. “That one, I like. Why couldn’t we have started with that one?”

You grinned at him. “Because we have different taste in pranks, apparently.”

“Yeah, you think like Clint. The two of you together would be terrifying. I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“He pranked Bucky. No one comes back from that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sam got up to leave before turning to you for one last moment. “When’s this stuff supposed to get in again?”

“By the end of the week.” You saved the gif and shut down your laptop. “I’ll let you know when everything’s ready.”

With a small salute, Sam left you to do…whatever it was he did in his free time. Now that you thought about it, you realized you had no clue.

\----------

“Hey, Steve?” You found the super soldier in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “Does the team ever do teambuilding exercises? Not the training kind, I mean, the hang-out-and-get-to-know-each-other kind.”

He looked up and leaned against the counter as he considered your question. “Not often. We sometimes hang out after missions, but that’s usually because we’re exhausted and need food or a place to crash and it’s easier to go together. Why?”

“I just realized how little I know about most of you.” You hopped up on the counter and sat with your legs dangling in front of the cupboards. “If you did a group hangout, I was going to ask if I could join.”

“Why don’t we just plan one?” Steve offered. “I’ll take a look at the schedule and see when everyone will be free. You can come up with a group activity and I’ll make sure everyone actually shows up.”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” He smiled at your enthusiasm. “Just don’t tell the others until we have it scheduled so they can’t duck out of it. I’ll make it mandatory.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, jumping down and giving him a quick hug. “You’re the best! I’m going to start planning now!”

Steve watched you dart off to your room, a smile on his face. Having you around was definitely fun; he was glad Bucky had you for a soulmate.

Thinking of soulmates gave him a pang in his chest. It was almost time for his next regular visit to Peggy.

\----------

“Remind me again what the point of this game is?” Thor asked, studying the tiny club the course attendant had handed him.

“You try to get the ball into the little holes with as few hits as possible,” Clint explained as he watched Sam and Bucky squabble over who got the blue golf ball. “Don’t hit it too hard or it’ll fly way too far.”

“This seems to be the exact opposite of what I am good at,” Thor said with a frown.

“Maybe,” Tony cut in, custom mini-golf club slung over his shoulder, “but I for one am looking forward to today because as a rich white man I have a very good chance of beating all of you.”  
“Don’t bet on in,” Rhodey cut in. “I’ve played almost as many games as you have.”

“And I don’t miss, no matter what I’m shooting,” Clint added.

“All right, everyone,” Steve called out, “gather round!” Once the team had circled up (Bucky got the blue ball after you distracted Sam with a darker blue one), he explained how the day would go. “We’ll be going through the course in three groups of four. The whole point of today is to be a teambuilding exercise, so try to actually talk to each other,” he gave Bucky, Sam, and Clint a pointed look, “instead of just trash talking. Tony, you have the teams?”

“Yep!” Tony said, stepping forward. “Since the point is to get to know each other better, I’ve tried to sort you into groups with people you don’t know as well; that means the couples have been split up, and no, Barnes, I won’t change my mind.” 

You squeezed Bucky’s hand and tried not to laugh at the pout that had settled across his face.

“Okay, team one is Y/N, Scott, Rhodey, and Nat. Team two is Steve, Hope, Clint, and Wanda. The last team, but definitely the coolest and best-looking, is me, Bucky, Sam, and Thor.” Tony clapped twice and made a shooing motion. “Team one is up. The rest of us will wait our turn for our tee times. You can have fun at the snack bar while waiting, but stay with your group.”

Neither Rhodey nor Scott lived at the tower, so you hadn’t spent much time around either of them other than introductions. You worked your hand free from Bucky’s, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and laughing at his disappointment. This was going to be a fun day, even if you weren’t spending it right next to him.

With a brief discussion amongst your group, the four of you decided your tee-off order. Nat lined up her shot and to the surprise of no one (because let’s be honest, Nat was good at everything) got a hole-in one. Rhodey followed with another hole-in-one, and you were starting to feel the pressure. If your team was this good, you were definitely coming in last.

Scott was next. He held out his ball to you before placing it.

“Blow on it?” he asked with a teasing tone. “I need all the luck I can get after those two.”

You obliged him with a laugh. He placed his ball, teed off… and proceeded to take fifteen strokes to finally get the green ball in the first hole. The rest of you were doubled over laughing at his look of concentration, missing his successful final stroke.

“Yes!” he cheered when it finally went in. He shot a grin at you. “I cut two strokes off my previous record for this hole.”

“How,” Rhodey gasped out between breaths, “can anyone be that bad at mini golf?” 

Scott slung his club over his shoulder and struck a pose. “Obviously I am a very special sort of talented.”

Nat rolled her eyes at him but smiled. “You’re a special sort of something, anyway.”

“My lady, you wound me deeply,” he replied with a mock-hurt expression.

“I’m just glad I’ve got a nice margin between the best and worst on this team,” you laughed. “Nat and Rhodey had me afraid I’d make a fool of myself.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Scott piped. “I make a fool of myself so others don’t have to.”

It took you three strokes to get your ball in the hole. You giggled at the banter amongst your team as you moved on to the next one. This was going to be a fun afternoon.

\----------

Because your group had teed off first, you finished first. Nat’s final score was 20, Rhodey’s was 24, you came in with a very respectable 38, and Scott somehow managed to finish with 247. The four of you headed to the snack bar to get drinks and watch the other teams playing through.

At least, you had planned to watch the other teams playing through. Plans changed when Scott bought out all the Warheads the snack bar had and tried to see how many he could fit in his mouth at once. You couldn’t have controlled your laughter if you had wanted to. Nat was smirking and Rhodey looked genuinely disturbed.

“I hope you realize those things can burn your mouth in that concentration,” he informed Scott. Scott replied with what might have been some form of acknowledgement but quickly turned into a choking sound and spit-covered Warheads flying from his mouth.

“Dude, how many did you fit?” Clint asked as his group came up, finished with the course.

“Only twenty-seven,” Scott said, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “I could have fit more if Killjoy over here hadn’t distracted me.”

“You’re disgusting,” Rhodey deadpanned. He turned to Hope. “What do you see in him?”

She shook her head. “It’s less what I see in him and more that I’m stuck with him. We’re soulmates.”

“And you love me,” Scott declared proudly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

She pushed him off. “You still have drool on your chin.”

“Oops.” He wiped at his face again, this time with a napkin Steve passed him.

Steve shook his head. “You’re something else, Scott.”

Scott was too busy cleaning up the Warheads he spit out to reply.

\----------

Clint ended up with a perfect score of 18, much to Tony’s annoyance (he tied Nat). After confirming that Clint won and Scott had definitely lost by the most (although Thor apparently had a hard time with putting, bringing his score over 100), no one else seemed to care about anyone else’s scores. As the group slowly dissolved back to their various modes of transportation, Bucky grabbed your hand and dragged you to your car. 

“What’s wrong, Buck?” you asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, noticing the cloudy look that had fallen across your soulmate’s face. “Did you not have fun? Should I have picked something else for the hangout?”

“Is Scott funnier than me?” he asked, knuckles clenching around the steering wheel.

You were not expecting that question. “What?”

He glanced at you and back to the road. “Is Scott funnier than me? You were laughing a lot today.”

“Bucky…” you slowly realized what was going on. “Are you jealous?”

He clenched his jaw before relaxing it and sighing. “It’s just… I’d never heard you laugh that hard before… and it wasn’t me who made you laugh…”

“Bucky, love, pull over please.” He found a grocery store parking lot to pull into and you took his flesh hand from the wheel. “Please, look at me. Scott is good at goofing off, and yes, he’s fun to be around. But he could never, ever make me as happy as you make me, even if you don’t do stupid stuff that results in choking on candy and spitting it out.”

Bucky screwed up his face. “He spit out candy?”

“Warheads. All over the snack bar counter,” you nodded. “It was disgusting and hilarious and I thought Rhodey was going to throw up.”

He let out a chuckle. “Okay, I can see why you were laughing.” His look became serious. “But do you mean it? That I make you happy.”

You brought his hand to your mouth and kissed his palm. His eyes flickered closed as your soft mouth caressed his rough skin.

“You,” you whispered, placing another kiss every few words, “make me… happier… than anyone else… ever has… or ever could.” You moved his hand to where it was cupping your cheek and leaned in to press a soft kiss on his lips. He immediately melted into you, mouth moving against yours. It was soft and sweet and a little bit needy, and you reached up to run a hand through his hair when you pulled back.

“Understood?” you asked him with a small smile.

His eyes were warm, shining with relief and gratitude and unshed tears.

“Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

\----------

Tony left his lab around midnight in search of a snack. He was out of blueberries, no thanks to DUM-E, who had sprayed him with the fire extinguisher while he was holding the open bag. It had been a complete overreaction; he’d had the fire totally under control. Okay, so he hadn’t actually noticed the fire until right before DUM-E sprayed him, but still. His blueberries were ruined, and he was going to blame DUM-E.

When he went to pass through the common room on his way to the kitchen, he found you and Bucky on the couch, you asleep on Bucky and the menu for Disney’s AristoCats playing on repeat. Your soulmate was looking down at you lying on his chest with a look of absolute wonder.

Tony paused in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but Bucky saw him and smiled.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” he whispered.

Tony studied your face. “She looks younger when she’s asleep. More delicate, somehow.”

Bucky nodded. “She’s so full of life when she’s awake, and her personality can be so big, that I sometimes forget how much smaller than me she is.”

“And yet,” Tony snorted, “she can take down Nat. Now that she’s used to fighting with two arms, she’s honestly more than a little terrifying.”

“She can take me down, too,” Bucky admitted, looking back down on you in awe. “She’s used to using her opponent’s strength against them like Nat and can match Steve and me in an arm wrestling match. So how does she look so soft?”

“Love will do that,” Tony mused, a small smile playing across his mouth. “She’s got it bad for you, Barnes.”

“Damn if I know why,” the soldier muttered. 

“I’m sure she won’t mind you asking her as often as you need to,” Tony said, finally exiting to the kitchen. “She seems to like telling you, too.”

Bucky laid there for a few more minutes studying your relaxed features before scooping you up and carrying you to bed. You snuggled deeper into his chest as he stood and his heart melted even more. How had he gotten so lucky?

\----------

“Okay,” Clint said, joining Sam in the kitchen, “you’ve gotta tell me how you pulled that off, because that prank was brilliant. I know you didn’t come in while I was showering, but that picture was definitely not there went I got in.”

“Heat changing printing,” Sam smirked. “The picture appeared as the bathroom heated up. You take such stupidly hot showers that thing always turns into a sauna. We just matched the color of the fabric we printed it on to your wall.”

Clint paused in pouring his coffee. “We?”

Uh oh. Sam froze, not sure how to take the slip-up back.

“Just tell him,” Bucky called from the next room. “She deserves it.”

He sighed. “Y/N has been helping me.” He was surprised when Clint broke down laughing.

“Dude,” the archer finally gasped out, “she’s been helping me, too. She’s the whole reason I started pranking you. Y/N has totally been playing us.”

“It’s about time you idiots figured that out,” Bucky grumbled, entering the kitchen and rinsing his dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. “I’ve been waiting for the whole thing to blow up in her face. Just keep me out of it. I disapproved from the start.”

“Hey,” Clint said, hands up, “I’ve learned my lesson about pranking you. But,” he turned to Sam, “I bet we could get her good if we work together.”

“Hm…” Sam looked thoughtful. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m leaving,” Bucky announced. “Plausible deniability is my friend.”

“Okay.” Clint braced himself against the counter as your soulmate left, getting excited. “Here’s what I’m thinking…”

\----------

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, watching the birds play on the ledge outside the window. You stood behind him in the bathroom doorway, running your eyes over the expanse of his back. His posture was open, relaxed, very different from when you’d first met him. It was nice to see him really settling in and getting comfortable.

“Hey you,” you said softly, crawling on the bed behind him to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Hi doll,” he smiled, craning his neck so he could kiss your cheek. “What plans do you have for today other than work?”

“I thought I might make us dinner? The team is doing takeout, but I thought we could do a stay-at-home date.”

“Sounds nice.” Bucky leaned his head back against your shoulder and closed his eyes. “I wanna go back to sleep.”

You couldn’t help but smile. His pout was far too cute for a skilled assassin. “Sorry, love, but you promised Steve you’d go for a run with him in,” you checked your watch, “fifteen minutes.”

The groan that left his mouth was comically exaggerated, but you held back your laughter.

“I could ditch Steve. He wouldn’t mind.” Bucky’s hopeful look had you suppressing a giggle.

“You could,” you conceded, “but I won’t be here. I’m going to work.”

You’d been with Bucky long enough to know what was coming next, and before he could turn and grab you, you were off the bed and by the door.

“Doll,” he growled playfully, “c’mere.”

“Nope!” you sang cheerfully. “Love you! Bye!” Blowing him a kiss, you waltzed out the door.

Bucky collapsed back on the bed, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He couldn’t wait to spend time with you tonight.

\----------

“Please, Barnes?”

“I already said no. I want no part of this. Ask Natasha.”

“Oh, hell no, if I bring Nat into this Y/N will turn her against us and we’ll both be dead.”

“Not my problem, Barton. Find someone else to help with your little prank war.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Come on!”

“I said no! And you’d better not ruin our night, either. We’re having an actual date. Do you know how few of those we’ve actually been on?”

“Fine. I’ll ask Tony.”

“Whatever. Just don’t try anything tonight.”

“We won’t, scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Pedantic.”

“Brat.”

“Please?”

“No.”

\----------

You hummed a tune to yourself as you punched the elevator button. Margie had invited you and Bucky over for dinner tomorrow night, and you had missed spending time with her and Jon. You weren’t sure if Bucky would be up to it, but you’d promised you’d ask him and let her know. If he wasn’t comfortable going to their place, maybe you could have them over to yours. Maybe you should have them over anyway; Jon certainly would enjoy that. He would probably get along great with Clint and Sam.

There was a fresh bouquet of daisies on a small table that had been set up in your room. Bucky had made sure to always keep some around ever since he found out you loved them.

Speaking of the man himself, he was just stepping out of the bathroom, one towel around his waist and another drying his hair. You’d introduced him to the idea that he could use more than one towel when he got out of the shower, and you may have unleashed a monster. He was becoming very particular in his towel preferences and you loved every moment of it. It was a vast improvement over being afraid of offending anyone with even the slightest differing opinion.

“Hey, doll!” Your heart fluttered at how his face lit up when he saw you. “I went ahead and got the table set up for our date so we wouldn’t have to worry about it. I was hoping that maybe I could help you cook? It’s okay if you’d rather I not…”

You cut off his rambling before it could really get started by walking over, slipping your arms around his waist, and kissing him. He immediately abandoned his speech and leaned into the kiss, letting his hair towel fall to the floor and bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“I would love your help,” you told him when you eventually broke the kiss.

“Oh. Good. That’s…” Bucky stumbled over his words as his face flushed a deep scarlet. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” you teased, “it’s very good. Now come on, Shakespeare, let’s get to work. I’m already hungry.”

The two of you worked efficiently in the kitchen; you talked Bucky through making the sauce while you prepped the meatballs, and in just under an hour you had two steaming plates of spaghetti ready to take to your room. It was a relaxing evening with the two of you telling stories from your childhoods and laughing well into the night. You ended up leaving the dishes for tomorrow, curling up together on top of your covers and fully clothed, exhaustion and happiness pulling you both into a deep sleep.

\----------

“Hey, Stark, can I ask a favor?”

“What’s up, Wilson?”

“I wanna thank Y/N for her help on this prank war with Clint so I’ve got a surprise planned. Could you get her to this location at this time with a blindfold on?”

“Am I going to regret it if I say yes?”

“I really hope not?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thanks, man, I’ll owe you one.”

\----------

Today had been a slow one at work, and you were grateful for it. You had two hours to get ready before you and Bucky would head over to Maggie and Jon’s for dinner and dessert. Knowing Jon, there would probably be some sort of crazy new card game for you guys to play, too. Last time they’d thrown a party they’d played Exploding Kittens. You couldn’t wait to see how Bucky would react to whatever Jon had planned this time.

As soon as you stepped off the elevator, Tony was right there putting a blindfold on you and ushering you back in.

“Come on, kiddo, we’ve got a surprise to get you to!”

“Tony,” you laughed, “what’s going on?”

“Honestly, no idea. Wilson said something about a surprise thank you for the help you’ve been giving him. I just know where I’m supposed to take you.”

They had to have found out. You fought back a smirk at what was probably coming. Bring it on.

“Okay,” Tony’s hands directed you out of the elevator, “right here.”

A sudden deluge of goopy liquid slopped over you, making you really glad your mouth had been closed.

“Guys,” you heard Tony sound slightly panicked, “what are you –”

Something grainy was dumped over the liquid, which from its consistency you were guessing was some sort of glue. You reached up and tried to wipe your mouth clear.

“Is it safe to take the blindfold off yet, Clint, or is there something else coming that I need to keep out of my eyes?”

“No, you’re good,” the archer laughed.

You took off your blindfold and studied your appearance in the mirrors along the wall of the gym. The liquid had indeed been glue, and now you were covered head to toe in multicolored glitter. It was going to be a pain to clean off.

“Y/N, I swear, I had no idea they were gonna do this,” Tony pled with you, eyes wide.

“Great idea with the blindfold,” you told the smirking culprits. “I appreciate you made sure it wouldn’t get in my eyes.”

“Hey, we’re annoyed, not cruel,” Sam informed you.

You turned to the still-panicked genius. “Tony, you are forgiven. They got you just like they got me.”

His relief was instantaneous. “Thank you.” He shot a glare at Sam. “I’m never doing you a favor again. You owe me big.”

“If you’re all done getting your payback and terrifying the man who so graciously provides us with a place to live,” you announced, “I’m off to get ready for the event I have tonight. Also, I suspect Bucky had something to do with you both finding out, so I’m gonna talk to him.”

“He had nothing to do with this,” Clint said. “I mean, he was there when we figured it out but he didn’t want to know what we were gonna do.”

“I’ll take that into consideration when I figure out his punishment,” you called over your shoulder as you went to find him. He knew something was coming and didn’t warn you. Yeah, you understood why, but you were still gonna get him.


End file.
